THE  UBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


ENDOWED  BY  THE 

DIALECTIC  AND  PHILANTHROPIC 

SOCIETIES 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


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C-     ITS   CONNEXION  WITH    THE    PRESENT    CONDITION 
AND    FUTURE    PROSPECTS   OF  MAN. 


BY     A     H  E  T  E  R  C)  S  C  I  A  N 


PRO\lpEW:E^ 
MARSHALL,  BRO  \\n'  .-^N 
MDCCC3  ^^ 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1835, 

BY    MARSHALL,    BROWN    AND    CO. 

Ill  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Rhode-Island. 


Printed  by 

A.    MARSHALL, 

Providence. 


*.  -  '". 


INDEX. 


Preface, Page  5 

Importance  of  Language,           -----  7 

Definitions  of  Poetry,  defective,             -        -        -  9 

Classification  of  Language,         .        .        -        -  10 

Language  of  Narration,         -        -        -        -  12 

"              Abstraction,        -        -        -  ih. 

"              Ideality,          .        -        -        -  ib. 

Metre  and  Rhyme,             -----  21 

Remarks  on  different  forms  of  Language,     -        -  26 

Connexion  of  Poetry  with  Love,       -        -        -  32 

Poetry  incapable  of  being  taught,           -        -        -  36 

Language  of  a  future  state,       .        .         -        -  38 

Imagination  and  Reason, 62 

Music, 65 

Connexion  of  Love,  Poetry,  Music  and  Devotion 
with  each  other,  and  with  the  Religious  Sentiment,  67 

Intuitive  Principle, 85 

Genius, 89 

Reasoning  and  Perceiving, 91 

Poetry  relatively  farther  advanced  in   an   unculti- 
vated state  of  society,              -        _        .        -  98 


4  INDEX. 

Inspiration, 102 

Mysteries, 109 

Influence  of  Ideality  on  the  formation  of  character,  121 

Prophecy, 130 

Ideality  and  Abstraction, 139 

Their  union   in  advancing   knowledge,    illustrated 

by  the  astronomical  discoveries,            -            -  14(5 

Future  Prospects,       -        -        -        -        -        -  151 


PREFACE. 

The  writer  of  the  following  pages  is  aware  that  some 
apology  is  due  to  the  reader  for  the  imperfect  form  in 
which  the  work  is  presented  to  him. 

He  claims  no  exemption  from  the  solicitude  which  us- 
ually attends  the  first  effort  of  authorship,  and  would 
cheerfully  have  bestowed  any  additional  labor  which 
might  have  made  his  essay  more  useful,  more  accepta- 
ble, and  more  worthy  of  public  favor. 

Causes  beyond  his  control  have,  however,  interrupted 
and  diverted  his  thoughts,  and  under  such  circumstan- 
ces as  leave  him  little  hope  of  being  able  soon  again  to 
direct  them  to  this  or  similar  pursuits. 

Some  of  the  objects  of  the  work  he  believes  may  still 
be  accomplished  by  its  publication  in  its  present  form. 

How  far  it  will  add  to  the  science  heretofore  accumu- 
lated on  the  subject  of  which  it  treats,  his  means  of  in- 
formation do  not  permit  him  to  know,  but  a  more  gene- 
ral intercourse  with  men  than  with  books,  has  led  him  to 
observe  that  there  is  too  little  diffused  information  on  the 
subject,  and  that  much  theoretical  error  and  practical 
evil  result  from  the  want  of  it. 

As  an  illustration  of  this  he  might  adduce  many 
of  the  rancorous  disputes  which  agitate  society,  in 
A 


6  PREFACE. 

some  of  which  the  question  should  be,  not  which  parCj 
has  arrived  at  truth,  but  simply  which  has  adopted  the 
bettei'  mode  of  expressing  it — or  in  other  words  which 
has  so  expressed  it,  as  to  best  harmonize  with  the  sys- 
tem of  truths  before  established,  and  most  facilitate  fur- 
ther acquisition — a  matter  of  sufficient  importance  and 
dilHculty  to  justify  vigorous  discussion  and  engage  the 
highest  talent. 

He  believes  that  the  influence  of  language  on  thought 
and  its  connexion  with  those  results  which  are  retained 
and  go  to  form  our  opinions  and  beliefs,  are  not  suffic- 
iently understood  even  by  many  w^ell  informed  on  other 
subjects. 

If  this  essay  shall  throw  any  light  on  its  relations  with 
all  the  great  objects  of  human  interest  and  investigation, 
or  if  it  shall  have  any  effect  in  provoking  thought  and 
causing  a  more  general  attention  to  the  subject — the  ut- 
most expectations  of  the  writer  will  have  been  fulfilled, 
and  he  will  be  gratified  with  the  reflection  that  a  task 
which  he  has  thus  far  performed  %Vith  pleasure  and  ben- 
efit to  himself,  has  not  been  without  its  utility  to  others. 


LANGUAGE 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  LANGUAGE,  ETC. 

The  importance  of  language  is  at  once  obviou< 
to  every  individual,  and  yet,  perhaps  few  are  aware 
of  the  full  extent  of  the  advantages  which  we  de- 
rive from  it.  Advantages  co-extensive  with  knowl- 
edge, co-equal  with  the  improvement  of  mankind. 
It  is  the  means  by  which  soul  acts  and  reacts  on 
soul.  By  it  the  heavenly  spark  of  thought,  emana- 
ting from  the  sohtary  mind,  inspires  each  kindred 
breast,  wakes  the  slumbering  fire,  and  lights  the 
torch  of  truth,  which  is  reflected  from  a  thousand 
other  minds  with  fresh  accessions,  until  its  light 
pervades  the  whole  atmosphere,  dissipates  the 
darkness  of  prejudice,  infuses  itself  in  popular  im- 
pressions, and  gives  distinctness  to  the  views  and 
opinions  of  the  public.  It  not  only  enables  every 
individual  to  avail  himself  of  the  intellectual  labors 
of  all  others,  but  it  furnishes  him  with  one  mode  of 
thinking  for  himself,  and  of  condensing  into  general 
propositions  the  mental  acquirements,  which,  if 
left  in  particulars,  would  soon  become  too  numer- 
ous for  memory  to  retain,    or  so  burdensome  as 


b  THE   IMPORTANCE 

greatly  to  retard  his  further  progress.  It  is  at  least 
one  of  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  man, 
and  it  appears  not  improbable,  lliat  to  this  endow- 
ment we  owe  a  large  portion  of  the  accumulation 
of  knowledge,  power  of  reasoning,  and  greater  sus- 
ceptibility of  improvement,  which  exalts  our  spe- 
cies above  the  brute  creation.  It  has  enabled  man 
to  form  the  social  compact,  and  it  is  a  form  of 
words,  which  by  protecting  him  from  injury  and 
guaranteeing  to  him  the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of 
the  possessions,  the  comforts,  and  pleasures  of  life, 
obviates  the  necessity  of  a  constant  savage  w^atch- 
fulness,  and  permits  him,  with  feelings  of  security, 
to  abstract  himself  from  the  narrow  concerns  of 
organic  existence,  to  range  in  the  beautiful  and 
illimitable  fields  of  thought.  It  has  thus  enabled 
the  contemplative  mind  to  unite  the  opportunities 
of  improvement  and  the  stimulus  to  exertion,  which 
are  found  in  the  charms  of  society,  with  the  tran- 
quility of  solitude  and  seclusion.  It  has  given 
mankind  the  power  of  retaining  all  that  the  past  has 
acquired,  and  of  circulating  it,  combined  with  all 
that  the  present  can  bestow;  thus  adding  discovery 
to  discovery — improvement  to  improvement — re- 
finement to  refinement — continually  vivifying  ex- 
istence with  fresh  cultivation — keeping  ahve  the 
germ  of  infinity  in  the  soul — elevating  and  enno- 
bling its  conceptions,  and  fostering  and  encourag- 
ing the  tendency  to  illimitable  expansion  in  all  the 
powers  of  the  mind. 


OP  LANGUAGE.  9 

But  it  is  needless  to  expatiate  on  the  importance 
of  a  subject,  which  is  so  obviously  and  so  essen- 
tially connected  with  all  that  ennobles  our  race. 

We  proceed  then  to  the  consideration  of  it  in 
the  various  forms  which  it  assumes,  among  which 
we  regard  poetry  as  properly  occupying  the  first 
place  in  point  of  time,  as  well  as  in  interest.  Va- 
rious attempts  have  been  made  to  define  this  por^? 
tion  of  language.  Of  these,  the  notice  of  one  of 
the  most  prominent  will  be  sufficient,  as  the  others, 
so  far  as  we  know  them,  are  at  least  equally  defec- 
tive. 

It  is  said  to  have  been  a  favorite  expression  of 
Aristotle,  that  "  poetry  is  an  imitative  art."  The 
high  idea  which  we  entertain  of  the  critical  accu- 
racy of  this  great  philosopher,  induces  us  to  sup- 
pose that  by  this  assertion,  he  may  have  intended 
to  imply  that  the  poetic  art  is,  in  this  respect,  sim- 
ilar to  many  others,  rather  than  that  it  is  thus  contra- 
distinguished from  them.  The  magic  of  a  great 
name  has  however  wrought  its  charms,  and  imposed 
it  upon  us  as  a  definition.  A  late  writer  imagines 
he  has  perfected  it,  and  that  poetry  may  properly 
be  defined  an  imitative  and  creative  art.  So  may 
many  mere  mechanical  occupations.  But  this  defi- 
nition has  most  singularly  missed  the  mark,  and  its 
absurdity  is  manifest  when  we  reflect,  that  it  is  ap- 
plied to  the  productions  of  the  poet,  to  which  it  is 
just  as  applicable  as  it  is  to  the  hoe  or  the  horse^ 
shoe,  which  is  produced  by  the  mechanic, 


10  THE   IMPORTANCE 

The  difficulty  of  determining  the  precise  boun- 
dary between  poetry  and  prose,  and  of  ascertaining 
their  distinguishing  characteristics,  probably  arises 
from  the  fact,  that  as  usually  exhibited,  most,  or 
perhaps  all  of  the  attributes  of  each,  are  found 
blended  with  those  of  the  other,  varying  only  in 
degree.  It  is  in  this  variation  then,  that  we  must 
seek  the  materials  for  a  definition. 

We  use  the  term  language  as  applicable  to  every 
method  of  imparting  ideas,  and  by  the  term  signs, 
when  used  in  relation  to  language,  we  mean  to  em- 
brace words,  and  every  other  representative  of  those 
ideas. 

A  language  of  words,  in  the  mode  of  the  varied 
sounds  which  we  produce  by  the  organs  of  speech, 
or  in  the  form  of  symbols  which  we  commit  to  pa- 
per, has  been  adopted,  as  the  usual  and  best  means 
of  communicating  our  thoughts.  If  we  carefully 
observe  the  operation  of  the  mind  in  this  process, 
we  shall  find  that  there  is  an  incipient  stage  of  our 
thoughts,  in  which  they  are  unconnected  with 
words.  In  this  state  they  might,  without  deviating 
far  from  the  usual  application  of  the  terms,  be  call- 
ed ideas  or  images.  The  latter  however  is  not 
without  its  objections,  and  the  first,  though  it  may 
be  strictly  applicable,  is  yet  so  closely  associated 
with  thoughts  which  have  assumed  the  form  of 
words,  that  we  deem  it  necessary  to  apply  another 
term,  more  clearly  to  designate  our  mental  percep- 
tions in  this  incipient  state,  and  keep  them  distinct 


OF  LANGUAGE.  11 

from  terms.  We  shall  call  them  ideals  or  primi- 
tive perceptions,  by  which  terms  we  mean  to  sig- 
nify the  impressions  of  things,  and  all  the  images, 
sensations,  and  emotions  of  the  mind,  which  are 
independent  of  words,  and  w^hich  having  a  separate 
and  prior  existence,  induce  us  to  resort  to  language 
when  we  would  impart  them,  or  the  knowledge  of 
them,  to  others,  or  as  one  means  of  comparing 
them  with  each  other.  One  person  sees  a  land- 
scape, and  the  impression  it  makes  on  his  mind  is 
an  ideal.  The  emotions  associated  with  it  are  also 
ideals,  or  primitive  perceptions.  He  seeks  cor- 
responding terms  and  describes  the  scenery  to  an- 
other, whose  mind  also  receives  an  ideal  of  it,  and 
with  it  such  associated  emotions  as  the  circum- 
stances excite,  and  these  are  also  ideals,  for  though 
in  him  the  effect  of  language,  they  are  still  as  dis- 
tinguishable from  the  terms,  or  signs,  as  any  other 
effect  from  its  cause. 

The  communication  of  our  thoughts,  then,  is 
effected  by  each  one  associating  the  same  sounds 
or  signs  with  the  same  ideals,  so  that  the  right  use 
of  them,  will  produce  the  same  primitive  percep- 
tions in  the  mind  of  the  hearer  as  exist  in  that  of 
the  speaker.  In  this  first  principle  of  language,  we 
observe  that  ideals  and  their  signs  are  chiefly  con- 
cerned, and  it  is  in  the  different  degrees  in  which 
they  are  respectively  made  the  objects  of  attention, 
that  we  may  reasonably  expect  to  find  the  elements 
of  the  changes  and  modifications  of  which  it  is  sus- 
ceptible. 


12  THE   IMPORTANCE 

The  first  and  most  obvious  use  of  language  is  to 
express  simple  facts — to  tell  our  wants  and  nar- 
rate the  occurrences  which  observation  has  col- 
lected. This  we  shall  call  the  language  of  narra- 
tion. The  use  of  it  requires  no  effort  of  imagina- 
tion, or  of  the  reasoning  powers,  on  the  part  of  ei- 
ther the  speaker  or  hearer,  but  simply  an  exercise 
of  the  memory  in  recalling  the  events  to  the  form- 
er, and  producing  the  proper  associations  between 
tlie  sounds  and  their  concomitants  in  both. — De- 
parting from  this  simplicity  on  the  one  hand,  by 
dismissing,  as  far  as  practicable,  the  ideals,  and  di- 
recting the  attention  exclusively  to  the  terms,  we 
arrive  at  a  mode  which  we  shall  call  the  language 
of  abstraction. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  terms  are  so  managed 
that  the  attention  is  directed  principally  to  the 
ideals  they  call  up,  or,  when,  instead  of  the  imme- 
diate connexion  between  words  and  ideals,  the 
associations  between  the  ideals  themselves  are 
made  use  of,  we  arrive  at  a  mode,  the  very  re- 
verse of  the  former,  which  may  be  denominated 
the  language  of  ideality,  or  primitive  perceptions, 
and  which  we  apprehend,  constitutes  the  most  im- 
portant characteristic  of  poetry.  We  may  bring  to 
our  mental  vision  a  number  of  these  ideals,  and, 
without  any  reference  to  terms,  observe  their  re- 
lations to  each  other,  and  this,  we  would  call  a 
process  of  ideality.,  or  poetic  mode  of  mind,  and  is 
evidently    contradistinguished    from  the  abstract, 


OF  LANGUAGE.  13 

or  prosaic  mode,  in  which  we  examine  those  rela- 
tions through  the  medium  of  substituted  terms. 
It  can  exist  in  perfect  purity  only  in  thought.  Any 
written  or  articulate  language  can  be  but  an  ap- 
proximation to  it,  which  however  may  be  ag  n 
purified  in  the  mind  of  the  recipient,  by  his  dis- 
missing the  terms,  and  retaining  the  ideals.  Poe- 
try, depending  on  this  prominence  of  the  primitive 
perceptions,  must  present,  or  at  least  use  for  illus- 
tration, such  as  we  perceive  clearly,  or  feel  strong- 
ly, and  hence  its  intimate  and  essential  connection 
with  imagery,  and  with  passion,  which  are  only 
different  forms  of  ideals.  The  artifice  of  the  poet 
s  generally  exercised  in  inventing  and  combining^ 
so  as  to  present  the  subjects  of  his  poem  with  such 
vivid  colouring  and  striking  arrangement,  that  they 
shall  command  the  undivided  attention  of  the 
reader. 

Actual  occurrences  may  occasionally  present 
similar  combinations,  and  objects  of  equal  interest; 
there  may  be  poetry  in  the  circumstances;  and  in 
describing  them, 'narration  and  ideality  are  blended 
in  one  common  language.  But  even  in  this  case, 
we  use  only  the  immediate  connexion  between 
words  and  ideals,  while  the  poet  avails  himself  of 
the  associations  between  the  ideals  themselves, 
and,  by  this  means,  reaches  those  recesses  of 
thought  and  feeling  to  which  terms  have  not  been 
extended,  and  secures  that  volatile  essence  of  sen- 
timent, which  rising  by  its  purity  above  the  gross 


14  THE   IMPORTANCE 

atmosphere  of  terms,  can  only  be  approached  by 
this  dehcate  process.  He  uses  language  to  mduce 
an  ideal,  not  in  itself  important,  but  valued  for  the 
associations  it  brings  with  it.  With  a  cabalistic 
word,  he  summons  the  half  recognized  ghosts  of 
departed  feelings,  and  with  the  incantation  of  terms 
imokes  a  host  of  spirits  from  the  world  of  fancy. 
But  though  we  recollect  not  the  word,  and  cannot 
repeat  the  terms  in  that  order  which  alone  gives 
them  magic  power,  yet  the  spectral  or  fairy  forms, 
the  impressions,  the  emotions,  or,  in  one  word, 
the  ideals  they  created,  may  be  as  distinctly  retain- 
ed, as  the  remembrance  of  any  external  object 
which  we  have  seen  without  learning  its  name. 
The  power  which  poetry  thus  possesses  of  extend- 
ing itself  beyond  the  limits  of  precise  terras,  and  of 
reaching  remote  ideals  through  the  medium  of  those 
which  are  within  the  immediate  grasp  of  words, 
is  its  most  important  and  peculiar  attribute. 

It  is  this  which  fits  it  for  the  communication  of 
discoveries  made  in  advance  of  the  age.  It  is  the 
receptacle  of  truths  in  their  most  evanescent  forms 
— the  depository  from  which  abstraction  is  contin- 
ually drawing  the  materials  for  the  improvement  of 
concrete  science.  When  knowledge  is  advancing, 
this  process  of  condensing  keeps  pace  with  it. 
Truths,  first  suggested  in  the  strains  of  the  poet, 
imperceptibly  assume  the  garb  of  prose,  and  be- 
come matters  of  demonstration.  This  mode,  how- 
ever, is  confined  to  the  immediate   action  of  Intel- 


OF  LANGUAGE.  16 

lect  upon  real  or  imaginary  existences,  for  when  we 
have  prepared  a  set  of  terms,  or  signs,  and  use  them 
to  the  exclusion  of  ideals,  the  processes  of  ideality 
of  course  cease  to  avail  us,  and  we  are  thus  aided 
in  our  progress  only  by  the  language  of  abstraction. 
There  are  cases  in  which  this  language  becomes 
so  pure,  that  we  pursue  it  without  being  conscious 
of  any  ideals.  Mathematical  analysis  furnishes  the 
best  specimens  of  this  mode,  and  without  now  at- 
tempting any  explanation,  we  will  merely  state  the 
fact,  that  in  this  science,  the  mathematician,  con- 
sidering only  the  terms,  and  guided  wholly  by  the 
relations  which  he  discovers  among  them,  makes 
his  way  through  trains  of  syllogisms,  reaching  from 
the  most  simple  and  obvious  premises,  to  the  most 
remote  and  abstruse  conclusions,  without  any  ideal 
arresting,  or  for  a  moment  diverting  his  attention. 
No  image,  no  emotion  obtrudes  itself  upon  his 
thoughts,  and  he  seems  to  be  dealing  with  nothing 
but  words,  or  with  signs  in  a  still  more  condensed 
form.  Not  even  the  thought  of  any  particular 
quantity  is  suffered  to  intrude  itself  among  the  signs 
from  which  he  is  laboring  to  deduce  a  formula, 
alike  applicable  to  all  quantities.  His  ideals,  if 
such  they  may  be  called,  are  the  first  perceptions 
of  new  relations,  or  new  combinations  of  terms,  so 
immediately  assuming  the  form  of  words,  that  he  is 
not  conscious  that  they  had  any  other  prior  exist- 
ence. All  general  propositions  must  be  express- 
ed in  this  language,  and  the  progress  of  knowledge 


16  .  THE   IMPORTANCE 

being  from  particulars  to  generals,  little  advance- 
ment can  be  made  without  it,  and  we  accordingly 
find  it,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  perfection,  in 
every  science. 

Next  to  mathematics,  some  portions  of  meta- 
physics and  ethics  probably  furnish  the  best  spec- 
imens of  this  mode.  When  treating  of  abstract 
principles,  of  which  it  is  at  once  difficult  and  use- 
less to  form  any  definite  images,  which  neither 
present  any  visible  form,  nor  excite  emotion,  the 
attention  is  more  easily  diverted  from  the  ideals, 
and  directed  exclusively  to  the  terms.  But  when, 
even  in  these  subjects,  we  approach  the  conside- 
ration of  mind  as  it  presents  itself  to  our  observa- 
tion, or  of  moral  principles  as  applicable  to  the 
actual  concerns  of  life,  the  inefficiency  of  terms 
becomes  apparent,  and  the  difficulty  of  progressing 
with  our  thoughts  restricted  within  such  narrow 
limits  as  they  impose,  becomes  insurmountable. 
Still,  so  far  as  they  go,  terms  greatly  assist  us; 
they  condense  a  subject,  for  a  single  term  repre- 
senting certain  abstract  qualities  or  properties,  may 
include  all  the  individuals  of  a  species,  or  divide 
them  into  greater  or  smaller  divisions,  as  the  num- 
ber of  abstract  quahties  expressed  by  the  term  is 
lessened  or  increased.*  In  such  propositions  as 
that  which  is  a  necessary  existence,  must  always 
have    existed;    space  is  a  necessary  existence — 


*See  Note  on  succeeding  page. 


OF  LANGUAGE. 


17 


therefore  space  must  always  have  existed.  The 
first  (Jails  up  no  ideal;  it  tells  us  of  no  event;  its 
truth  or  falsity  is  to  be  determined  only  by  the  re- 
lations of  the  terms  in  which  it  is  expressed,  and 
is  therefore  purely  in  the  language  of  abstraction. 
The  last  being  a  conclusion  growing  out  of  the 
consideration  of  the  terms  of  the  other  two,  is  of 
the  same  character. 

This  is  a  tiny,  and  we  fear  but  a  faint  illustra- 
tion of  the  influence  of  this  form  of  language  in  the 
process  of  thought,  and  of  the  power  which  it  im- 
parts. With  this  guide,  the  man  of  abstraction 
fearlessly  traverses  the  wide  ocean  of  speculations, 
in  search  of  rich  discoveries  in  distant  climes, 
where  hidden  mines  of  knowledge  seldom  fail  to 
reward  his  enterprise  and  toil. 

With  a  view  of   contrasting  this   language  with 


*Thus: 
Oil, 
Water. 

Spirits,  &c. 

Oxygen, 
Hydrogen, 
Nitrogen,  &c. 

Granite, 
Quartz, 
Hornblende,  &c. 

Iron, 
Lead, 
Copper,  &c. 

Barytes, 

Magnesia, 
Alumina,  &c. 


■Liquids  "^ 


•  Gases. 


Fluids.     ' 


Matter. 


>  Metals,    j.  Solids. 

>  Earths. 


•r 


1; 


THE   IMPORTANCE 


that  of  ideality,  let  us  examine  another  illustratiori. 
It  we  say  that  mirror  is  in  this  room — this  room  is 
■in  this  house — therefore  that  mirror  is  in  this 
house — the  repetition  of  the  word  in  in  each  step^ 
assures  us  of  the  correctness  of  the,  inference. 
But  if  we  say  that  mirror  is  in  this  room — this 
room  is  a  part  of  this  house — therefore  that  mir- 
ror is  a  part  of  this  house — the  change  in  terms 
immediately  warns  us,  that  our  conclusion  is  not  a 
necessary  consequence  of  our  premises,  and  the 
effect  is  in  both  instances  the  same,  if  for  mirror, 
room,  and  house,  we  substitute  unknown  terms 
which  will  call  up  no  ideals  in  the  mind.  This 
shows  us,  that  to  connect  the  different  parts  of  a 
discourse  in  the  language  of  abstraction,  we  must 
retain  the  terms  of  the  successive  propositions 
which  compose  it;  while  in  the  language  of  ideal- 
ity, the  terms  are  immediately  discarded,  and  the 
ideals  they  have  suggested  ai'e  alone  impressed  on 
the  memory.  The  first  fills  the  mind  with  a  con- 
catenation of  terms,  the  other  presents  to  its  vision 
a  collection  of  images,  or  inspires  it  with  emotion. 
This  shows  us  a  distinction  which  every  reader  may 
bring  to  the  test  of  his  own  consciousness,  and  if 
it  is  correct,  he  will  invariably  find,  that  whatever 
the  merits  of  a  poem  may  be,  when  any  portion  of 
it  requires  him  to  preserve  the  connexion,  by  a  re- 
currence to  the  terms  instead  of  the  ideals,  there  is 
a  cessation  or  revulsion  of  all  poetic  feeling.  By 
the  modes  of  narration  or  abstraction  we  are  mere- 


OF  LANGUAGE.  10 

ly  made  to  knoio  the  facts  which  are  stated;  ideali- 
ty causes  us  to  perceive  and  feel  as  if  the   occur 
rences  were  passing  before  us. 

In  metrical  works  of  a  philosophical  or  narrati\c 
character,  the  poetry,  except  where  the  circum- 
stances are  in  their  nature  and  combination  poetic, 
will  all  be  found  in  the  imagery,  with  whicli  the 
abstract  tnuhs  or  historical  events  are  illuslrated 
and  adorned. 

The  modes  of  abstraction  and  ideality  being  thu^ 
directly  opposed  to  each  other,  and  separated  by 
the  intermediate  language  of  narration,  are  easily 
distinguished  from  each  other.  They  are  oftei) 
blended  so  as  to  produce  an  agreeable  variety. — 
The  orator  in  an  especial  manner  may  combine 
them  with  advantage,  and  particularly  when  his 
object  is  at  once  to  convince  and  to  persuade.  We 
are  often  persuaded  to  approve  a  means,  by  having 
some  desirable  result  depicted  to  us  in  vivid  col- 
ours. But  to  be  convinced,  requires  that  we  should 
not  only  perceive  a  good,  but  be  assured  that  no 
equal  or  paramount  evil  will  arise  from  the  same 
cause.  This  requires  that  the  whole  ground  should 
be  examined,  and  for  this  purpose,  generic  terms, 
embracing  large  portions  of  it  at  once,  are  very 
convenient,  and^re  more  readily  known  to  embrace 
the  whole,  as  in  recounting  the  countries  of  a  grand 
division,  we  should  more  quickly  perceive  an  omis- 
sion, than  if  we  attempted  it  in  smaller  districts. 
This,  we  suppose,  illustrates  the  principal  differ- 


20  THE   IMPORTANCE 

ence  between  persuasion  and  conviction,  and  shows 
the  fitness  of  abstraction  to  the  one,  and  of  ideality 
to  the  other.  The  orator  should  bear  in  mind  this 
distinction,  and  when  he  wishes  to  persuade,  draw 
largely  from  the  materials  of  ideality,  and  when  his 
object  is  to  demonstrate  and  place  his  positions  be- 
yond the  reach  of  refutation,  use  them  sparingly 
and  with  caution.  The  scintillations  of  his  fancy 
should  then  be  employed  only  to  illumine  the  depths 
and  recesses  of  his  reasoning.  If  he  make  them 
the  prominent  objects  of  his  discourse,  we  suspect 
him  of  attempting  to  deceive  our  understanding; 
our  vanity  is  offended;  we  feel  that  he  is  only  amu- 
sing or  beguiling  us  with  pictures,  when  he  pro- 
fesses substantial  argument. 

Still  ideality  is  the  grand  essential  of  eloquence. 
It  warms  the  heart,  and  gives  an  impulse  more  like 
that  which  arises  from  the  realities  which  it  depicts, 
for  it  makes  them  present  to  our  minds'  view,  and 
corresponding  effects  are  produced  upon  us. 

The  degree  of  attention  required  in  retaining  the 
parts  of  an  abstract  argument,  and  observing  the 
relations  between  them,  and  the  labor  necessary  to 
follow  it  in  its  intricate  paths,  fatigues  and  perplexes 
the  mind  not  well  disciplined  to  the  task.  In  the 
form  of  ideality,  the  circumstances  which  consti- 
tuted the  groundwork  of  the  verbal^rgument,  must 
be  so  arranged,  that  their  connexion  with  the  result 
may  be  perceived  without  any  conscious  effort. — 
"When   the   orator  has   succeeded  in  bringing  the 


OF  LANGUAGE.  21 

subject  home  to  the  perception  of  his  hearers,  the 
effect  on  them  approaches  to  that  of  actually  ob- 
serving what  he  depicts,  and  produces  in  them  sim- 
ilar emotions  and  impulses.  He,  therefore,  who 
would  long  command  the  attention,  and  sway  the 
feehngs  of  an  audience,  must  enhven  his  discourse 
with  an  infusion  of  ideality. 

While  abstraction  illuminates  with  a  single  con- 
centrated beam,  ideality  dazzles  with  a  multiplying 
reflector,  and  if  a  ray  diverge  from  its  destined 
course,  she  interposes  another  ideal,  which  reflects 
it  to  its  proper  point. 

It  will  be  observed,  that  the  view  thus  far  taken 
of  poetry,  is  independent  of  its  usual  accompani- 
ments, metre  and  rhyme.  We  consider  them,  not 
as  essential  attributes,  but  as  decorations,  which  it 
may,  or  may  not  assume. 

The  artificial  arrangement  of  feet,  in  poetic  com- 
position, produces  a  pleasing  alternation  of  effort 
and  repose,  to  the  organs  both  of  speaking  and 
hearing;  and  the  lines  all  containing  an  equal  num- 
ber of  these  feet,  and  similarly  arranged,  furnishes 
a  rule,  which  enables  the  reader  to  proceed  by  the 
^  force  of  habit  or  mere  imitation,  thus  leaving  the 
attention  to  be  more  exclusively  exerted  on  the 
ideals.  The  emphatic  words  being  manifest,  makes 
the  sense  clear,  and  gives  point,  precision  and 
force  to  expressions,  which  might  otherwise  re- 
quire to  be  much  lengthened  to  prevent  am.biguity, 


22  •  THE   IMPORTANCE 

The  atteniion  is  left  still  more  at  liberty,  by  each 
line  embracing  a  distinct  division  of  the  sense;  and 
this  effect  is  again  increased,  when  these  divisions 
are  marked  by  terminations  similar  in  sound.  The 
last  of  the  rhyming  words  carrying  the  attention 
back  to  the  first,  presents  more  of  the 'subject  at 
once,  and  knits  the  whole  more  closely  together. 
Another  happy  effect  of  this  similarity  of  arrange- 
ment and  terminations,  arises  from  association.  It 
is  an  interest,  analogous  to  that  which  we  feel  in  a 
stranger  who  happens  to  resemble  a  friend,  and 
which  is  so  often  excited  before  we  are  conscious 
of  the  cause.  One  line  enchants  us,  and  another, 
though  it  breathes  not  its  spirit  and  is  destitute  of 
its  intrinsic  charm,  imparts  a  pleasure  like  that  we 
enjoy  in  the  first  hasty  glance  of  a  portrait,  where 
the  hand  of  art  has  given  such  expression  to  the 
features  of  one  we  love,  that  in  the  first  moment  of 
rapture,  we  perceive  not,  we  think  not,  that  "  soul 
is  wanting  there." 

Another  advantage  of  thus  limiting  the  mode  of 
expression  to  a  particular  form,  is,  that  it  checks 
the  impetuosity  of  the  poet,  and  by  compelling  him 
to  dwell  longer  on  the  subject,  makes  his  views  of 
it  more  varied  and  complete.     It  also  obliges  him 

resort  to  a  multiplicity  of  terms  and  phrases, 
which  w^ill  suggest  many  new  relations  and  greatly 
extend  the  range  of  his  thought.  To  these  two 
causes,  he  is  probably  indebted  for  the  perfection 
of  m.any  of  his  first  ideas;  for   some   of  his  most 


OF  LANGUAGE.  23 

beautiful  analogies;  and  for  those  little  delicacies 
of  expression  and  sentiment,  which  give  such  ex- 
quisite finish  to  his  creations.  We  will  omit  the 
consideration  of  some  minor  points,  those  already 
suggested  being  sufficient  to  show  the  more  im- 
portant advantages  of  metre  and  rhyme  in  poetic 
composition.  It  may  however  happen,  that  these 
advantages  are  sometimes  counterbalanced  by  the 
restrictions  they  impose.  It  is  possible  there  may 
be  instances  in  which  the  artless  grace,  the  native 
vivacity  of  freedom,  may  lend  more  touching 
charms,  and  imbue  unadorned  poetry  with  more 
thrilling  beauty,  than  all  these  artificial  decorations 
and  refinements  can  bestow. 

Without  seeking  for  a  cause  to  support  the  ex- 
treme of  this  conjecture,  we  will  offer  as  a  partial 
illustration,  the  first  portion  of  Burke's  apostrophe 
to  the  queen  of  France. 

"It  is  now  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  since  I 
saw  the  Queen  of  France,  then  the  dauphiness,  at 
Versailles,  and  surely  never  lighted  on  this  orb, 
which  she  hardly  seemed  to  touch,  a  more  delight- 
ful vision.'^ 

The  first  part  of  this  sentence,  merely  informs 
us  of  the  time  and  place  at  which  he  had  seen  the 
queen,  and  that  she  was  then  the  dauphiness.  It  is 
therefore  narrative.  But  the  conclusion  is  in  the 
language  of  ideality,  and  strikes  us  as  a  happy 
application  of  the  poetic  art.  The  mind  in  pro- 
gressing through  it,  is  so  happily  prepared  by  the 
■  *, . 


24  THE  IMPORTANCE 

image,  which  having  "  lighted  on  this  orb,"  must 
of  course,  have  come  from  other  spheres,  and 
hardly  touching  it,  flits  before  his  imagination,  that 
the  conclusion,  which  in  ordinary  language,  would 
merely  have^embodied  the  preceding  description 
in  some  dehghtful  object  of  vision,  now  exerts  a 
magic  influence,  and  calls  up  the  subject  of  some 
entrancing  reverie  or  ecstatic  dream — perchance 
an  angel  form,  which  in  some"  bright  moment  of 
enchantment,  has  lent  its  celestial  influence  to  the 
illusions  of  fancy.  His  imagination  recalls  the  im- 
age fresh  from  heaven,  too  pure  to  touch  our  earth, 
or  breathe  an  atmosphere  so  gross,  but  enveloped 
in  a  fleecy  cloud  of  heavenly  element,  buoyant  with 
purity,  and  deriving  a  pearly  splendor  from  its 
unearthly  transparency.  The  smile  with  which  it 
vanished  again  beams  upon  him.  He  recollects 
the  thrill  of  pleasure,  the  exaltation  of  feeling,  so 
pure,  so  ennobling,  so  pervading,  that  he  felt  as  if 
all  mind,  and  mind  all  refinement  and  ecstacy. 

The  next  sentence — "  I  saw  her  just  above  the 
horizon  decorating  and  cheering  the  elevated  sphere 
she  just  began  to  move  in,  full  of  life  and  splendor 
and  joy;"  may  naturally  suggest  to  us  the  orb  of 
day,  decorating  with  his  beams  the  loveliness  of 
nature  in  the  freshness  of  early  morn,  or  its  inferior 
only  in  splendor,  shedding  her  more  mild  and  be- 
nign influence  over  some  tranquil  and  enchanting 
scene.  And,  with  these  scenes  may  be  recalled 
those  moments,  when  their  purifying  and  exhilera- 


OF  LANGUAGE.  25 

ting  influence  imparted  vivacity  and  life,  and  the 
animation  around  us,  had  its  analogy  in  the  gaiety 
and  joy  within.  Such  are  the  phantasms,  which 
these  few  words  may  have  summoned  from  the 
shades  of  oblivion,  and  with  magician  power  im- 
parted distinctness  to  the  misty  shrouding  of  de- 
parted feelings  and  forgotten  scenes;  and  which  in 
again  vanishing,  have  concentrated  in  one  ideal, 
and  pictured  the  young  queen  before  us  as  an  an- 
gel form  of  spotless  purity — glowing  with  life — ra- 
diant with  joy — surrounded  with  splendor — impart- 
ing ecstacy  to  all,  and  elevating  and  ennobling  all 
within  the  sphere  of  her  influence. 

One  of  the  characteristic  quahties  of  this  mode 
of  expression  is  the  rapidity  to  which  it  excites 
thought;  an  obvious  consequence  of  a  multiplicity 
of  ideals  being  immediately  made  the  objects  of 
our  perceptions,  without  the  usual  circumlocution 
of  examining  their  relations  through  the  medium  of 
terms.  This  rapidity  is  frequently  still  farther 
accellerated  by  one  set  of  expressions  giving  rise 
to  two  trains  of  ideas.  The  one  consisting  of  the 
ideals  and  their  wide  spread  associations,  each  of 
which  by  the  delicate  mechanism  of  analogy,  ex- 
hibits the  subject  in  some  new  position,  sheds  the 
light  of  illustration  upon  it,  or  reproduces  and  adds 
another  ideal  to  the  less  expansive  train  which 
bears  it  forward  in  its  already  illuminated  path. 

When  we  consider  this  eiFect  of  accellerated 
mental  excitement,  and  unite  to  it,  that  which  aris- 


26  THE    I.MPORTA^•CE 

es  from  the  power  of  calling  up  ideals  or  percep- 
tions with  all  the  vividness  of  reality,  yet  divested 
of  the  modifying  circumstances  of  real  life,  we 
shall  perceive  that  we  have  advanced  far  in  the 
discovery  of  the  secret  springs  of  poetic  inspira- 
tion— of  the  hidden  sources  of  that  mystic  influ- 
ence, which  rolls  upon  us  a  tide  of  feelings,  the 
most  exquisite  and  exalting,  or  acute  and  over- 
whelming. 

In  the  language  of  narration,  our  course  is  pre- 
scribed by  the  order  of  events. 

In  the  language  of  abstraction,  each  step  is  con- 
trolled by  the  term  of  those  which  precede  it. 
They  guide  our  reasoning.  But  as  objects  maybe 
seen,  and  emotions  felt,  in  any  conceivable  order 
of  succession,  or  without  any  order  at  all,  so 
ideals,  their  immediate  representatives,  may  in 
like  manner  be  presented,  and  the  poet  discarding 
these  guides,  may  freely  follow  the  dictates  of  his 
fancy,  till  lost  in  the  mazes  which  he  has  rapidly 
threaded  from  one  bright  object  to  another;  over- 
powered by  their  dazzling  influence;  confused  and 
distracted  by  their  multitudinous  and  disordered 
assembla2;e,  his  excited  feelings  are  wrought  to  a 
state  of  incoherent  energy,  and  he  enjoys  or  suf- 
fers a  poetic  frenzy. 

The  division  or  classification  of  language  which 
we  have  suggested,  has  its  basis  in  the  elements  of 
mind.     I^Iemory  is  first  supplied   by  observation, 


OF  LANGUAGE.  27 

with  facts,  from  which  both  reason  and  imagination 
draw  their  materials.  Among  these  ideas,  as  ex- 
pressed in  the  simple  language  of  narration,  the 
reasoning  faculty  perceives  many  which  are  similar 
in  all  respects,  except  tiiat  each  relates  to  a  dis- 
tinct object.  It  divests  them  of  this  distinction, 
by  substituting  the  same  generic  term  in  each  and 
thus  embraces  them  all  in  one  general  proposition — 
an  abstract  truth.  It  proceeds  to  form  more  in  the 
same  manner,  and  by  a  proper  combination  of 
these,  to  deduce  others  of  a  like  character,  or  still 
more  condensed.* 

Imagination  on  the  other  hand,  avoiding  those 
which  appear  common  from  their  similarity  to  many 
others,  seizes  the  more  striking  ideals,  which  inso- 
lated  and  far  removed  from  the  limits  of  common 
observation,  unite  the  charms  of  novelty,  with  the 
illusions  of  distance.  It  is  her  province  of  these 
to  form  new"  and  beautiful  combinations ;  to  present 
them  to  our  view -with  the  advantages  which  varied 
light  and  shade  can  impart,  and  with  the  pleasing 


*  Thus : 
Oxygen  resists  less  than  stone  ^    Gases  resist 

Hydrogen  resists  less  than  stone        V  ,^g^  ^j^^^  ^,^^^ 
Nitrogen  resists  less  than  stone  nc.  J 


Water  resists  less  than  stone  ^  Liquids  resist  1 

Oil  resists  less  than  stone  V  ,^^.^'  ^j^^^  ^^^^^  j 

Spirit  resists  less  than  stone  kc.      j  -' 


Fluids  resist 


[  Fluids  resist  less  than  stone        ^ 
I       "         "       "       "    wood  Fluids  resist 

!esE  than  stone-;      ,,         u       ..       <<    ^^,.^\,         \     than  solids 

1^     "         "       "       "     iron  &c.  J 


28  THE  IMPORTANCE 

illustrations  which  refined  analogies  and  associations 
may  bring  to  their  aid.  She  thus  introduces  us  to 
an  intimacy  with  those  distant  shadows  of  sentiment 
and  feeling,  which  have  often  flitted  just  within  the 
verge  of  our  perceptions,  but  were  never  so  dis- 
tinctly pictured  to  our  understanding. 

Of  these  three  divisions  it  may  be  said  to  be  the 
province  of  the  first  to  suggest,  of  the  second  to 
demonstrate  and  condense,  and  of  the  last  to  per- 
ceive, to  amplify,  to  illustrate,  and  adorn.  To  make 
obvious  these  various  effects,  we  have  the  language 
of  narration,  which  is  the  instrument  of  memory — 
the  language  of  abstraction,  which  is  the  engine  of 
the  reasoning  faculty;  and  the  language  of  ideality, 
which  is  the  machinery  of  the  imagination. 

We  have  thus  far  made  no  distinction  between 
material  objects  and  feeling,  or  in  other  words,  be- 
tween the  external  and  internal  objects  of  our  con- 
sciousness. It  is  obvious  that  the  former  interest 
us  only  by  their  influence  upon  the  latter.  That 
in  real  life,  certain  combinations  of  the  one,  pro- 
duce certain  states  of  the  other,  some  of  which  the 
language  of  narration  has  not  power  to  describe. 
To  depict  these — to  again  recall  them  in  their  na- 
tive simplicity,  or  refined  and  improved  by  new 
combinations,  is  the  province  of  the  poet.  As  a 
means  of  effecting  this,  he  makes  use  of  the  cir- 
cumstances or  the  objects  which  produce  them,  or 
of  the  associations  which  experience  and  observa- 


OF  LANGUAGE.  29 

tion  have  suggested.  It  is  in  thus  avaiUng  himself 
of  the  principle  of  association,  that  he  so  often  and 
so  happily  alludes  to  the  effect,  (not  unfrequently 
the  physiological  effect,)  of  those  feelings  when 
excited.  Of  this  we  have  a  fine  illustration  in  the 
expression — "  All  was  still;  still  as  the  breathless 
interval  betwixt  the  flash  and  thunder." 

To  elicit  these  emotions  in  a  happy  manner,  re- 
quires a  knowledge,  not  only  of  the  niceties  of  lan- 
guage, but  of  the  intricate  and  delicate  relations  of 
the  feelings,  united  to  a  discriminating  taste,  which 
while  it  perplexes  not  by  obscurity^  neither  wearies 
attention  by  prolixity,  nor  offends  the  vanity  by 
being  too  minute.  The  poet  must  frequently  give 
only  the  prominent  ideals,  and  leave  the  imagina- 
tion to  supply  the  rest.  The  reader  will  thus  have 
his  faculties  more  excited;  he  will  fill  up  the  blanks 
in  a  manner  most  agreeable  to  himself,  and  revel- 
ling in  what  thus  seems  the  creations  of  his  own 
fancy,  he  will  cheerfully  award  the  meed  of  praise 
to  that  which  has  provoked  him  to  thought,  and 
imparted  to  him  the  elevation  of  conscious  power. 
We  may  here  remark  that  a  little  obscurity  in  ex- 
pression, or  ambiguity  in  terms,  when  so  employed 
as  to  concentrate,  rather  than  distract  attention, 
may  greatly  assist  this  effect,  and  at  the  same  time 
repel  the  attention  from  the  terms  to  the  ideals,  to 
which  they  allow  a  greater  latitude,  but  may  still 
in  some  measure  control. 

Extending  the  application  of  terms,  and  at  the 
■  0  ■  ' 


30  THE   IMPORTANCE 

same  time  preventing  ambiguity  by  a  skilful  arrange- 
ment and  other  aids,  constitutes  an  important  por- 
tion of  the  poet's  art.  It  is  this  which  enables  him 
happily  to  express,  what  others  have  only  perceiv- 
ed or  felt.  We  may  sometimes  be  led  to  fancy  a 
connexion  between  the  undefined  feelings  and 
thoughts  which  we  have  experienced,  and  vague 
expressions  which  we  meet  with.  Writers  may 
sometimes  associate  them  in  the  same  way,  and 
this  reflection  may  illustrate  the  remark  of  a  popu- 
lar poet,  that  "  when  he  wrote  very  fine,  he  did  not 
always  expect  to  understand  himself."  In  such 
cases,  the  ideals,  though  perceived  in  a  state  of 
high  mental  excitement,  are  probably  indistinct,  and 
their  associations  with  the  terms  used  to  indicate 
them,  rather  accidental  than  conventional,  or  the 
connexion  with  them  so  vague,  so  delicate,  or  so 
remote,  as  not  easily  to  be  traced  by  the  writer 
himself.  In  some  instances  this  would  be  the  ut- 
most limit  of  his  art;  thought  penetrating  so  far  that 
he  could  find  no  adequate  means  of  pourtraying  it. 
In  other  cases  it  might  be  but  the  false  glare  of  po- 
etry— an  abuse  of  that  latitude  which  the  poet  must 
always  be  allowed  in  the  use  of  language. 

Though  the  activity  to  which  the  mind  is  excited 
by  poetic  description,  obviates  the  necessity  of  be- 
ing minute,  and  often  makes  even  common  precis- 
ion tedious,  yet  when  the  subject  is  either  suffi- 
ciently absorbing  or  important,  the  poet  may  pre- 
sent in  quick  succession,  each  separate  feature  of  a 


OF  LANGUAGE.  31 

particular  ideal  until  the  whole  is  completely  de- 
veloped, and  fixed  in  the  mind  with  all  the  circum- 
stances of  reality,  or  he  may  dwell  only  on  those 
delicate  and  shadowy  characteristics,  which  recall- 
ing the  more  obvious,  complete  the  picture  and 
make  it  equally  perfect  and  distinct.  Such  is  that 
description  of  Byron's,  where  the  image  is  that  of 
lifeless  beauty  and  its  apposite  analogy,  fallen 
Oreece.  •  '. 

"  He  who  hath  bent  him  o'er  the  dead. 

E'er  the  first  day  of  death  has  fled. 

The  first  dark  day  of  nothingness, 

The  last  of  danger  and  distress, 

(Before  decay's  efl^acing  fingers  .      ,■ 

Have  swept  the  lines  where  beauty  lingers,) 

And  mark'd  the  mild  angelic  air. 

The  rapture  of  repose  that's  there,  '      "  ■" 

The  fix'd  yet  tender  traits  that  streak 

The  languor  of  the  placid  cheek. 

And — but  for  that  sad  shrouded  eye, 

That  fires  not,  wins  not,  weeps  not,  now. 

And  but  for  that  chill,  changeless  brow, 
Where  cold  obstruction's  apathy,  .  .   ■ 

Appals  the  gazing  mourner's  heart, 
As  if  to  him  it  could  impart  ■    . 

The  doom  he  dreads,  yet  dwells  upon ; 
Yes  but  for  these,  and  these  alone, 
Some  moments,  ay,  one  treacherous  hour, 
He  still  might  doubt  the  tyrant's  power ; 
So  fair,  so  calm,  so  softly  seal'd, 
The  first  last  look  by  death  reveal'd! 
Such  is  the  aspect  of  this  shore; 
'Tis  Greece,  but  living  Greece  no  more! 
So  coldly  sweet,  so  deadly  fair. 
We  start,  for  soul  is  wanting  there. 
Hers  is  the  loveliness  in  death, 
flj^'  parts  not  quite  with  parting  breath  ; 


>T 


32  POETRY  AND  LOVE. 

But  beauty  with  that  fearful  bloom, 

Tliat  hue  that  haunts  it  to  the  tomb,  • 

Expression's  last  receding  ray, 

A  gilded  halo  hovering  round  decay ,-^- 

The  farewell  beam  of  feeling  pasit  away! 

Spark  of  tliat  flame,  perchance  of  heavenly  birth, 

Which  gleams,  but  warms  no  more  its  cherished  earth!" 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  attempt  an  analysis  of 
the  various  artifices  by  which  the  pleasure  arising 
from  poetry  is  increased,  and  the  allusion  we  have 
just  made,  to  one  of  the  master  spirits  of  the  art, 
and  tlie  recollection  of  his  poetic  history,  has  op- 
portunely reminded  us  of  the  connexion  between 
poetry  and  love.  A  connexion  so  universally  be- 
lieved, and  believed  to  be  so  universal,  that  it  has 
been  doubted  whether  any  one  ever  truly  felt  the 
latter,  without  some  disposition  also  to  the  former. 
All — no,  not  all — the  heart  which  has  been  petri- 
fied by  avarice  or  corrupted  by  vice,  whose  senti- 
ment and  vitality  are  destroyed,  may  resist,  or 
rather,  not  feel  its  power.  But  the  most  abstract, 
reasoner  is  not  proof  against  it — the  coldest  math- 
ematician, or  the  yet  colder  metaphysician,  yields 
to  its  genial  influence.  Suddenly  affected  in  a  man- 
ner which  he  deems  unaccountable;  it  is  to  him  as 
though  some  law  of  nature  had  varied  from  its  uni- 
formity. Unaccustomed  to  such  freaks  of  the  im- 
agination, he  is  unskilled  in  controlling  them.  In- 
stead of  being  governed. by  his  judgment,  he  seems 
impelled  by  some  invisible  agency,  and  the  power 
of  mystery  is  thus  united  to  the  spell  of  enchant- 


POETRY  AND  LOVE.  33 

ment.  His  previous  discipline  of  mind  and  accus- 
tomed scrutiny  of  its  action,  serve  only  to  heighten 
his  surprise,  and  to  increase  the  difficulty  of  a  ra- 
tional solution.  The  more  he  contemplates  it,  the 
stranger  and  more  pecuhar  his  case  appears.  Not 
doubting  that  he  had  before  known  all  the  qualities 
of  the  human  mind,  he  is  ready  to  ascribe  this  new 
influence  to  a  supernatural  cause,  and  if  such  avis- 
ion  as  we  have  before  endeavored  to  sketch,  should 
meet  his  wondering  gaze,  he  may  imagine — yes, 
imagine  himself  under  the  care  of  a  guardian  angel 
— a  generous  spirit  which  has  suddenly  imparted  to 
him  an  elevation  of  soul,  purity  of  sentiment,  and 
delicacy  of  feeling  never  before  vouchsafed  to  mor- 
tal. All  the  terms  by  which  other  men  might  in 
some  degree  express  their  emotions,  are  to  him  cold 
abstractions;  he  has  already  appropriated  them — he 
has  before  located  and  limited  their  significations 
with  a  rigorous  accuracy  and  precision  which  ren- 
der them  inapplicable  to  a  new  and  expanded  feel- 
ing. How  then  is  he  to  express  himself?  The 
language  of  ideahty  is  his  only  resource,  and  is  nat- 
urally adopted,  for  his  warm  imaginings  are  primi- 
tive perceptions  for  which  he  knows  no  conven* 
tional  signs.  The  solitude  of  his  feelings  finds  re- 
lief in  the  objects  around  him,  for  all  nature  speaks 
jhe  silent  eloquence  of  love.  Purified  and  exalted, 
those  feehngs  are  as  inspirations  from  heaven,  and 
he  takes  pleasure  in  tracing  their  resemblances  to 
other  manifestations  of  the  source  of  all    His  em0'= 


34  POETRY  AND  LOVE. 

tions  are  too  strong  to  be  repressed;  too  etherial  to 
find  utterance  in  the  common  forms  of  discourse; 
too  highly  prized  to  be  lessened  by  such  diffusion. 
Throughout  the  worlds  of  matter  and  of  mind, he  sees 
the  beautifui,  the  delicate,  the  grand,  the  vague, 
and  tlie  infinite,  with  quickened  powers  of  vision. 
He  delights  to  dwell  on  the  analogies  they  present, 
and  in  tracing  out  the  metaphors  they  suggest.  He 
is  treading  on  enchanted  ground.  He  feels  the 
force  of  those  invisible  links  which  unite  the  spir- 
itual with  the  material  world.  Those  mysterious 
associations,  by  which  the  most  etherial  modes  of 
ideality  are  connected  with  external  forms  and  ap- 
pearances, are  shadowed  out  before  him.  He  com- 
pares the  emotions  of  his  heart  to  all  that  is  glow- 
ing and  ardent,  and  the  object  of  his  affections  to 
ail  that  is  pure  and  lovely  in  nature.  He  is  thus 
introduced  to  the  region  of  poetry,  and  his  unskil- 
ful efforts  in  the  use  of  its  appropriate  language  of- 
ten makes  him  appear  ridiculous.  Added  to  this, 
he  is  acting  under  an  excitement  not  imparted  to 
those  around  him,  and  under  circumstances,  for 
which  deductions  from  the  past,  furnish  him  with 
no  rule  of  conduct.  He  has  already  questioned  the 
omnipotence  of  reason,  and  doubts  the  integrity  of 
the  magnet  which  has  been  his  guide  on  the  ocean 
of  life.  Unaccustomed  to  steer  by  chance,  he  acts 
either  with  that  embarrassed  indecision  or  restless 
energy,  which  has  given  rise  to  the  assertion,  that 
jthe  most  sensible  men  are  the  greatest  fools  in  love. 


POETRY  AND  LOVE.  35 

(The  assertion  would  perhaps  be  more  just  if  Um- 
ited  to  men  of  the  greatest  reasoning  powers.)  His 
mind.,  however,  crowded  by  a  rapid  flow  of  ideals, 
seeks  relief  in  a  corresponding  flow  of  words,  and 
when  these  in  their  turn  become  too  impetuous,  or 
make  harsh  discord  with  thoughts  attuned  to  love, 
he  instinctively  opposes  to  their  vehemence  the  ar- 
tificial obstacles  of  metre  and  rhyme,  or  seeks  by 
this  harmony  of  arrangement,  to  make  tliem  con- 
sonant with  feehngs  which  fill  his  whole  soul  with 
music.  It  is  then  the  language  of  ideality  or  po- 
etry in  its  usual  garb.  Would  it  be  wonderful  if  a 
man  thus  suddenly  metamorphosed,  should  question 
his  identity.''  or,  that  with  the  habit  of  reasoning 
still  left  him,  he  should  argue  that  he  wlio  was  once 
proof  to  the  charms  of  poetry  and  the  fascinations  of 
music — who  would  turn  from  the  loveliest  of  na- 
tures scenery  to  examine  a  triangle  of  a  sophism, 
could  not  have  been  the  same  person  as  he  who  is 
now  warbling  rhymes,  and  feasting  his  imagination 
with  objects  before  unnoticed  or  unknown? 

Accustomed  ev'ry  thought  to  prove. 
And  by  fix'd  rules  each  feeling  try — 
He  might  ascribe  it  all  to  love, 
But  cannot  find  a  reason  why.  ^ 

■■        '  ■'■*•»•■ 


..V  ,^ 


36    "  POETIC  LANGUAGE. 


Poetry,  which  term  we  now  use  as  synony- 
mous with  the  language  of  ideaUty,  has  only  a  re- 
mote and  vaguely  defined  connexion  with  words 
as  generally  used,  which  renders  it  difficult,  if  not 
impossible,  for  the  poet  to  teach  to  others  the 
knowledge  of  his  art.  Perhaps  he  himself  does 
not  often  analyze  the  process  to  which  he  is  indebt- 
ed for  his  inspirations,  but  even  when  he  is  fully 
acquainted  with  it,  the  want  of  a  direct  and  imme- 
diate connexion  with  the  usual  modes  of  commu- 
nication, will  present  a  serious  obstacle  to  his  im- 
parting the  secret  of  his  power. 

In  the  language  of  narration,  the  teacher  may  in- 
form his  pupil  of  the  arbitrary  but  conventional 
connexion  between  the  terms  and  the  things  signi- 
fied. Or  he  may  explain  to  him  the  necessary  re- 
lations between  the  terms  expressing  the  premises, 
the  intermediate  steps,  and  the  conclusion  of  an 
abstract  argument;  and  so  instruct  him  that  he  may 
apply  terms  in  a  similar  manner.  But  he  who 
would  seek  an  explanation  of  poetic  imagery,  or 
any  other  form  of  the  language  of  ideality,  must 
consult  his  own  feelings,  and  his  facility  in  under- 
standing it,  will  depend  on  the  care  which  he  has 
bestowed  on  these  germs  and  vines  of  thought, 
^vhich  in  cultivated  fertility  and  vigour  put  forth 


POETIC   LANGUAGE.  37 

numberless  tendrils,  uniting  them  all  by  these  deli- 
cate, elastic,  invisible  twinings,  in  one  inseparable, 
tangled,  yet  free  and  flowing  exuberance.  Who 
for  instance,  that  had  never  known  the  mingled 
emotions  of  suspense  and  awe,  or  some  analogous 
sensation,  could  understand  what  was  meant  by 
the  "breathless  interval  betwixt  the  flash  and  thun- 
der." The  expression  "breathless  interval"  would 
be  to  him  perfectly  unmeaning.  And  suppose  we 
should  attempt  to  enlighten  him.  We  might  tell 
him  that  the  phenomenon  alluded  to,  sometimes 
caused  a  momentary  suspension  of  respiration. 
Our  pupil  would  no  doubt  be  astonished  at  the  fact, 
would  hold  his  breath,  and  thus  get  the  new  idea, 
that  lightning  sometimes  produced  an  unpleasant 
feeling  of  oppression  about  the  region  of  the  lungs, 
which  he  would  probably  ascribe  to  the  effect  of 
electricity.  We  would  still  strive  to  rectify  his 
mistake,  and  to  explain  to  him  the  corresponding 
emotions  of  the  mind;  but  here,  after  exhausting 
all  the  appropriate  terms  which  common  language 
can  supply,  we  should  find  that  there  were  some  of 
those  emotions  for  which  it  had  no  appellatives, 
and  which  no  appellatives  could  signify  to  one  in 
whose  mind  they  had  not  been  impressed  by  ex- 
perience or  analogy;  or  which  at. least  they  could 
not  shadow  forth  with  all  their  delicate  charac- 
teristics and  finer  influences.  Here  of  course, 
our  illustrations  would  fail — but  to  the  initiated, 
the  expression  "breathless  interval"  calls  up  all 
that   may    have   been   felt   from   the    occurrence 


38  LANGUAGE 

of  the  reality.  It  accommodates  itself  to  the 
actual  feelings,  and  is  equally  applicable  to  the 
strong  and  vivid  emotions  of  the  one,  or  the  weak 
and  glimmering  sensations  of  another.  Such  ex- 
pressions call  up  in  each  tlie  thoughts,  the  feelings, 
the  unexpressed  and  unexpressible  ideals  they  have 
respectively  realized,  or  would  realize,  if  the  occa- 
sions, which  the  fancy  of  the  poet  has  depicted, 
were  in  their  reahty  presented  to  them. 

If  these  considerations  give  us  some  idea  of  the 
language  of  ideality,  they  also  suggest  that  it  has 
its  source  in  the  deepest  recesses  of  mind,  and 
springs  from  the  feelings  which  stir  and  quicken  the 
soul,  and  the  aspirations  which  lead  it  forward  into 
the  infinite — that  the  cultivation  of  them  always 
eUcits  it,  and  that  being  thus  the  attribute  of  the 
inherent  and  imperishable  properties  of  the  soul, 
or  the  consequence  of  their  improvement,  it  must 
continue  with  it  in  its  every  state  of  existence.  It 
may  be  objected  that  this  consideration  is  leading 
us  beyond  the  proper  limits  of  philosophical  re- 
search. But  some  glimmering  rays  still  light  our 
path. 

Does  temptation  assail  us,  the  gratification  which 
is  to  be  the  result  of  error  is  presented  to  our 
thoughts,  and  so  absorbs  our  attention,  that  we 
turn  not  to  observe  the  more  remote  and  less  daz- 
zling consequences.  If  reason  has  time  to  trace 
them  all  in  the  language  of  abstraction,  or  if  ideali- 
ty delineates  the  whole  picture,  the  illusion  is  dis- 
pelled. 


OF   FUTURITY.  39 

Does  virtue  prompt  us  to  a  good  and  generous 
act,  she  calls  to  her  aid  the  very  feelings  which 
are  to  reward  it. 

The  application  of  these  facts  to  our  argument 
must  be  obvious  to  all  who  believe  in  communica- 
tions from  the  spirits  of  another  world,  and  espec- 
ially to  those  who  also  believe,  that  some  of  those 
spirits  have  the  will  and  the  power  to  thwart  the 
designs  of  Deity,  and  from  the  creation  of  the 
world,  have  maintained  a  not  altogether  unsuccess- 
ful strife  with  Omnipotence — for  the  mastery  of 
man.  To  at  least  a  portion  of  these,  the  facts  we 
have  mentioned,  may  appear  clearly  to  lead  us  to 
the  conclusion,  that  the  language  of  ideality  in  its 
purest  form,  is  the  language  of  the  higher  orders  of 
intelligence.  To  others  it  may  still  appear  a  vis- 
ionary speculation,  a  baseless  hypothesis,  or  vague 
conjecture.  But  far  as  it  evidently  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  rigid  demonstration,  permit  us  for  a  mo- 
ment to  examine  its  probability. 

The  hypothesis  that  death  annuls  all  conscious- 
ness of  our  present  state  of  existence,  and  all  the 
mental  qualities  here  possessed,  involves  that  of 
annihilation.  Or  to  suppose  that  it  destroys  the 
consciousness  of  its  present  state,  while  the  qual- 
ities of  mind  are  still  retained,  is  supposing  what  is 
exactly  equivalent  to  the  extinction  of  one  soul  and 
the  creation  of  a  new  one  of  the  same  material  or 
essence.  A  moment's  consideration  will  convince 
us  of  the  correctness  of  this  position,  from  which 


40  LANGUAGE   OF 

we  may  fairly  infer  that  the  soul  in  its  separate  state 
retains  the  qualities  and  properties  it  here  possess- 
es, and  the  consciousness  of  having  here   enjoyed 
them.     Analogy  too,  clearly  indicates  that  the  fac- 
ulties which  we  have  here  t)een  perfecting  should 
not  be  lost.     Nature  is  always   more  careful  even 
of  what  is  much  less  precious   than  intellect  and 
moral  feeling.     Retaining  then  these  qualities,  and 
having  this  remembrance  of  the  past,  is  it  not  ex- 
ceedingly probable  that  some  of  the  same  sources 
of  enjoyment  which  have  here  contributed  to  their 
happiness,  must  continue  to  constitute  a  portion  of 
the  felicity  of  the  future?     Now  one  of  the  most 
pure  and  vmalloyed  gratifications  arises  from  the  im- 
provement of  our  intellectual  and  moral  qualities  by 
advancing  in  knowledge.     We  all  know  how  much 
this  is  accelerated  by  communion  with  each  other, 
and  yet  how  much  it  is  retarded  by  the  ambiguity 
and  inefficiency  of  words.     So  much  is  this  the  case 
that  many  sciences  are  now  only  advanced  by  first 
advancing  language  so  as  to  improve  the  means  of 
thought  and  enable   a  number  of  kindred  minds  to 
communicate    their  views    and    concentrate   their 
power  on  the  spme  point.     But  even  when  success 
has  crowned  their  efforts  by  the  discovery  of  some 
new  truth,  how  slowly  is  it  diffused — how  long  be- 
fore it  enlightens  the  public  mind.     The  language 
of  mathematics  is  undoubtedly  the  most  explicit, 
and  best  adapted   to  its  subject  of  any  which  we 
possess,  and  yet  the  controversy  among  the  cotem- 


OF    FUTURITY.  41 

poraries  of  Newton  shows  us  that  there  was  one  of 
his  discoveries*  ui  that  science,  the  reasoning  of 
which  was  pronounced  fallacious  by  mathematicians 
of  acknowledged  learning  and  acuteness,  and  which 
very  few  of  its  no  less  learned  supporters  then  clear- 
ly understood,  but  which,  from  the  improvement  in 
the  modes  of  illustration,  is  now  made  familiar  to 
school  boys.  But  generations  passed  away  before 
it  admitted  of  being  thus  easily  imparted  and  un- 
derstood, and  in  sciences  with  a  less  perfect  adap- 
tation of  language,  the  diffusion  of  truth  in  the  high- 
er departments  is  still  slower. 

If  from  what  we  before  advanced,  it  appears  prob- 
able that  there  will  be  some  mode  of  communion 
hereafter,  does  it  not  now  seem  equally  probable, 
that  in  that  more  perfect  state,  this  obstacle  to  our 
improvement  will  be  guarded  against — that  we  shall 
there  possess  a  means  of  social  intercourse  free 
from  ambiguity — that  the  pleasure  of  advancement 
will  be  increased  by  its  consequent  accelleration-— 
that  when  deprived  of  the  material  organs,  words 
and  signs  will  no  longer  be  employed — in  a  word, 
that  the  language  of  ideality,  which  a  partial  im- 
provement of  our  faculties  has  here  elicited,  will 
then  be  so  perfected,  that  terms  will  be  entirely 
dispensed  with,  and  thought  be  there  communicated 
without  the  intervention  of  any  medium  to  distort 
its  meaning,  or  sully  its  brightness — that  ideas  will 

*  Fluxions. 

D 


42  LANGUAGE 

there  flow  directly  from  mind  to  mind,  and  tiie  sou! 
be  continually  exhilerated  by  breathing  a  pure  con- 
genial atmosphere,  inhahng  feeling,  poetry,  and 
knowledge. 

This  conjecture  derives  a  further  plausibility, 
from  the  consideration  that  our  present  language 
seems  especially  adapted  to  things  material,  that  in 
the  purely  physical  sciences  we  can  communicate 
ideas  with  great  accuracy  and  precision — that  the 
difficulty  of  doing  this  increases  in  proportion  as  our 
feelings  and  the  qualities  of  mind  enter  into  the  sub- 
ject to  which  we  endeavor  to  apply  it,  and  when 
they  become  exclusively  its  objects,  it  almost  en- 
tirely fails.  Poetry  has  accomplished  much  more 
than  the  other  forms  in  pourtraying  the  pas&ions, 
sentiments,  and  all  the  more  striking  and  compli- 
cated mental  phenomena,  but  even  that  has  shed  but 
a  feeble  light  over  a  small  portion  of  this  interest- 
ing field  of  research,  or  in  bright  but  fitful  gleams, 
shovvii  the  undefined  vastness  not  yet  explored. — 
Our  present  language,  then,  is  wholly  inadequate  to 
a  subject  which  of  all  others  must  most  interest  a 
world  of  spirits,  as  if  it  were  intended  only  to  carry 
us  to  the  point  from  which  we  are  thence  to  start- — 
to  give  us  a  glimpse  of  the  infinite  regions  which 
imagination  has  not  yet  traversed — the  exhaustless 
sources  of  thought  which  mind  still  possesses,  while 
the  language  of  ideality  has  here  accomplished  just 
enough  in  the  exhibition  of  the  subjects  of  our  in- 
ternal consciousness^  to  assure  us  that  it  also  pos- 


OF   FUTURITY.  43 

sesses  the  elements  of  a  power,  which  when  ma- 
tured, may  become  the  fitting  instrument  to  gather 
the  treasures  of  that  unexplored  immensity.  But 
may  we  not  go  farther? — may  we  not  say  that  w"e 
have  even  here  a  foretaste,  or  at  least  a  nearer  ap- 
proach to  this  angelic  pleasure?  Have  we  not  wit- 
nessed the  soul  in  all  its  purity  and  vigor,  throwing 
off  the  trammels  which  words  impose  on  its  highest 
action,  and,  as  if  anticipating  its  conscious  destiny, 
in  a  transport  of  impassioned  thought  and  feeling, 
almost  entirely  discarding  the  usual  mode  of  ex- 
pressing them,  when  the  eloquence  of  the  eye  an- 
ticipates the  tongue,  when  every  feature  kindles 
with  emotion,  and  the  whole  countenance  is  as  a 
transparency  lighted  with  its  glowing  conceptions? 
It  is  then  that  terms  are  most  nearly  dispensed  with, 
and  it  is  in  this  sympathetic  -mingling  of  thought  and 
sentiment  that  we  enjoy  the  purest  poetry  which 
warms  the  soul  in  its  earthly  tabernacle.  Those 
who  have  known  the  raptures  of  such  converse  and 
have  felt  its  exalting  influence,  will  regard  it  as 
worthy  a  place  in  a  higher  sphere,  and  be  willing 
to  admit  it  to  their  most  entrancing  reveries  ofely- 
sian  bliss.  Does  not  this  view  lend  a  delightful 
confirmation  to  our  hypothesis?  but  the  argument 
derives  yet  additional  strength  from  the  considera- 
tion that  this  faculty,  this  power  of  silent  yet  vivid 
expression,  seems  somewhat  proportioned  to  moral 
excellence,  or  increases  as  the  spiritual  predomin- 
ates over  the  material  part  of  our  natures — that  in 


44  Language 

most  men  it  is  at  best  but  dimly  visible — that  in 
those  of  the  finer  grade  of  intellect,  whose  feelings 
have  been  cultivated,  whose  purity  has  never  been 
sullied  by  corroding  care  and  ignoble  pursuits,  nor 
tlieir  sensibility  blunted  by  too  rude  collision  with 
the  world,  it  becomes  more  apparent;  while  in  the 
sex  of  finer  mould,  who  are  elevated  above  these 
degrading  influences — whose  feelings  are  more  pure 
• — whose  sentiments  are  more  refined — and  whose 
spirits  are  more  etherial,  it  manifests  itself  with  a 
softened  splendor,  to  which  that  of  angels,  may  well 
be  supposed,  only  another  step  in  the  scale  of  a  mag- 
nificent progression.  It  is  to  the  superiority  which 
woman  has  in  this  expressive  language;  to  her  com- 
mand of  this  direct  avenue  to  the  finer  feelings,  that 
we  must  attribute  her  influence  in  refining  and  soft- 
ening the  asperities  of  our  nature.  And  it  is  owing 
to  the  possession  of  this  element  of  moral  elevation, 
that  while  the  finest  and  strongest  reasoning  of  phy- 
losophy  has,  in  this  respect,  accomplished  so  httlo, 
that  woman  has  accomplished  so  much.  She  pos- 
sesses not  the  strength  w^hich  has  been  exhibited  by 
some  masculine  minds,  nor  perhaps  even  the  bril- 
liancy which  has  emanated  from  others;  but  the 
influence  which  they  respectively  exert  on  society 
appears  in  strange  disproportion  to  the  apparent 
causes.  The  one  is  as  the  sun  which  sheds  his 
strong  beams  upon  the  waters  and  the  waves  proud- 
ly reflect  his  dazzling  brilliancy;  the  other  as  the 
moon,  whose  milder  light  melts  into  the   ocean | 


OF    FUTllRITY.  45 

glows  through  all  its  depths;  heaves  its  mighty  bor 
som,  and  elevates  it  above  its  common  level. 

The  refined  subtleties  of  an  Aristotle,  or  the 
glowing  sublimities  of  a  Plato,  though  presented  to 
us  with  all  the  fascinations  of  a  high-toned  morality, 
and  clothed  in  the  imposing  grandeur  of  a  lofty  and 
commanding  eloquence,  are  dim  and  powerless  to 
that  effusion  of  soul,  that  seraphic  fervor,  which 
with  a  glance  unlocks  the  avenues  to  our  tender- 
ness, which  chides  our  errors  with  a  tear,  or  win- 
ning us  to  virtue  with  the  omnipotence  of  a  charm, 
irradiates  its  path  with  the  beaming  eye,  and  cheers 
it  with  the  approving  smile  of  loveliness.  And 
hence  too  it  is,  that  the  degree  in  which  this  influ- 
ence is  felt,  and  its  source  appreciated,  is  justly 
considered  as  the  test  of  civilization  and  refine- 
ment. Is  there  not  in  this  mild,  gentle,  silent,  per- 
suasive, yet  dissolving  and  resistless  influence,  a 
charm  which  bears  witness  to  its  celestial  charac- 
ter? Do  we  not  recognize  in  it  a  similarity  to  that 
of  heaven,  and  if  we  have  ascribed  itto  its  prop- 
er cause,  does  not  this  similarity  at  once  stamp  our 
speculation,  if  not  with  the  seal  of  a  moral  cer- 
tainty, at  least  with  the  impress  of  a  cheering  prob- 
ability? '  ' 

It  is  apparent  that  such  a  language  as  we  have 
endeavored  to  pourtray  as  thai  of  a  future  state, 
would  embrace  that  of  narration,  and  thus  to  the 
imagination  unite  memory  and  its  pre-requisites, 
observation  and  attention.     But  we  are  aware  that 


46  "LANGUAGE 

a  difficulty  may  here  occur  to  the  metaphysician, 
and  that  others  may  be  ready  to  inquire  how  some 
of  these  views  can  be  reconciled  with  what  we  be- 
fore asserted  of  the  necessity  of  the  language  of  ab- 
straction in  advancing  knowledge.  To  the  latter 
we  would  observe,  that  it  is  principally  in  the  phys- 
ical and  intellectual  sciences  that  this  language  is  so 
indispensible,  and  we  have  already  labored  to  show 
that  it  does  not  hold  the  first  place  as  a  means  of 
moral  culture.  But  to  both  we  would  urge,  that 
the  necessity  of  the  language  of  abstraction  arises 
from  the  weakness  and  imperfection  of  our  present 
faculties.  That  if  we  could  conceive  of  generals 
— of  a  whole  species  as  we  do  of  an  individual  of 
that  species,  and  retain  distinctly  a  long  series  and 
combination  of  them^  it  would  be  useless  as  a  means 
of  thinking.  Our  weakness  only,  obliges  us  to  use 
symbols  accurately  defined,  and  which  being  con- 
densed, are  easily  embraced  by  our  limited  powers. 
To  obviate  this  necessity,  it  may  at  first  be  sup- 
posed that  a  new  faculty  must  be  given  us.  But 
we  beheve  that  even  this  hypothesis  may  be  dis- 
pensed with,  and  in  lieu  of  it  w^ould  suggest  that  if 
the  faculty  of  attention  were  so  disciplined  and  im- 
proved, that  when  we  considered  the  image  of  any 
species,  we  could  at  pleasure  and  with  ease  direct 
that  faculty  only  to  the  characteristics  which  belong 
to  all  the  species,  and  divest  the  idea  of  those  which 
distinguish  it  from  the  same  species,  it  would  be 
precisely  what  is  now  gained  by  the  substitution  of 


OF  FUTURITY.  47 

terms  for  abstracted  qualities.  It  would  be  free 
from  those  incidental  associations,  which  produce 
error  when  they  enter  into  the  elements  of  a  gen- 
eral result.  And  is  it  too  much  to  suppose  that 
when  no  longer  engaged  in  the  dissipating  cares  of 
this  life,  nor  surrounded  by  the  distracting  influen- 
ces of  the  material  world,  our  power  of  attention 
should  become  so  perfected,  that  we  could  then 
discover  the  relations  among  our  perceptions  with- 
out being  obliged  first  to  express  them  in  abstract 
terms,  and  the  language  of  abstraction  and  all  the 
power  which  it  imparts  be  thus  merged  in  that  of 
ideality. 

They  are  then  all  united.  Let  us  for  a  moment 
endeavor  to  form  some  idea  of  this  combination, 
from  the  consideration  of  its  distinct  elements. 

We  have  already  remarked  that  observation, 
through  the  medium  of  memory,  furnishes  the  ma- 
terials for  both  the  reasoning  and  the  imaginative 
faculties, — ^and  we  may  further  remark,  that  with- 
out a  sufficiency  of  the  solid  realities  which  it  sup- 
plies, the  first  would  expend  itself  on  chimerical 
and  illusive  theories,  and  the  latter  on  weak  and 
vapid  conceits.  There  evidently  is,  in  the  union 
of  ideality  and  abstraction,  or  to  speak  of  the  fac- 
ulties instead  of  their  means  or  mode  of  action,  in 
imagination  and  reasoning  combined,  a  peculiar 
adaptation  to  the  advancement  of  knowledge.  The 
one  supplies  the  deficiency  of  the  other.  Imagin- 
,ation,  by  her  superior  quickness  and  greater  reach. 


48  LANGUAGE 

extends  her  flight  far  beyond  the  hmits  to  which 
science  has  extended  her  empire.  She  penetrates 
and  pervades  the  wilderness  of  the  unknown,  and 
frequently  catches  the  first  glimmering  of  truth,  or 
shadows  out  the  yet  dubious  relations  between  the 
most  remote  ideas,  long  before  the  approach  of 
slower  paced  reason,  and  thus  guides  her  on  the 
way,  and  facilitates  her  progress  to  more  certain 
discoveries.  It  was  thus  that  the  poet  first  point- 
ed to  the  position  of  a  twinkling  star,  whose  ray 
sent  forth  at  creation's  birth,  had  not  yet  reached 
the  eye  of  grovelling  mortals,  the  probable  exist- 
ence of  which,  astronomy  has  since  put  forth  the 
powers  of  abstraction  to  demonstrate. 

The  language  of  ideality  is  perfect  in  proportion 
to  the  facilities  which  it  gives  for  portraying 
thoughts  in  their  hicipient  state.  By  resorting  to 
its  various  expedients,  the  poet  exhibits  casual  and 
even  indistinct  associations  as  they  exist  in  his  own 
mind,  which  finding  place  in  other  minds,  and 
brightening  in  their  course,  result  in  truths  confirm- 
ed by  common  opinion  or  observed  experience. — 
These  associations,  when  traced  out,  are  often  found 
to  depend  on  some  real,  though  perhaps  before  un- 
noticed connexion,  the  discovery  of  which  is  thus 
added  to  the  common  stock  of  knowledge. 

In  the  following  instance  we  are  made  to  associ- 
ate crime  and  misery,  by  having  them  presented  to 


OF   FUTURITY.  49 

our  mental  vision,  shrouded  in  the  same  intellectual 
brightness. 

"  His  intellect  so  bright,  that  it  could  shed 
A  lustre  o'er  tlie  darkest  deeds  of  crime; 
So  dazzling  bright  that  it  at  once  could  dim 
The  sight  of  mortals,  and  from  human  gaze, 
^nsAroutZ  the  misery  itself  produced." 

We  are  aware  that  it  .is  now  too  late  to  treat  the 
connexion  of  crime  and  misery  as  a  truth  in  the  po- 
etic stage  of  knowledge.  It  has  advanced  nearer  to 
the  sphere  of  certainty,  and  we  offer  this  instance, 
only  as  an  illustration  of  one  of  the  modes  in  which 
such  truths  first  find  utterance,  and  finally  becomes 
embodied  in  the  generally  admitted  maxims  or  sci- 
entific theorem  of  succeeding  generations.  It  is  thus 
that  the  imagination  is  continually  extending  the 
vague  boundary  of  the  circle  of  speculative  science, 
while  abstraction  is  as  constantly  following  it  up,  by 
advancing  the  limits  of  probability  and  extending  the 
less  distant  verge  of  demonstration.  United,  they 
enlarge  the  sphere  of  knowedge,  fill  it  with  the  gran- 
deur and  magnificence  of  truth,  and  throw  around 
it  a  garniture  of  all  that  is  beautiful  and  sublime  in 
the  ideal.  These  faculties  are  seldom  found  united 
in  a  high  degree  of  perfection  in  the  same  individual, 
but  we  hope  we  have  already  made  it  appear  at  least 
possible,  that  the  obstacles  to  their  union  here,  are 
obviated  in  the  hereafter;  that  the  unshackled  spirit 
may  there  possess  a  quickened  observation,  fur- 
nishing an  exhaustless  supply  of  the  new  and  won- 
derful, on  which  reason   forms  the  sparkling  brii- 


50  LANGUAGE 

liancy  of  demonstration,  and  an  active  and  versatile 
imagination  adorns  with  the  effulgence  of  poetic 
imagery,  culled  from  creation's  vast  expanse.  And 
thus  by  their  combined  influence,  every  idea  would 
be  presented  with  the  vividness  of  fancy,  the  cohe- 
rence of  reality,  and  the  certainty  of  demonstra- 
tion, and  imparted  with  all  its  primitive  fullness  and 
splendor.  That  there,  the  same  individual  may 
unite  concentrated  attention,  which  like  perfect 
vision  observes  all  around  it,  whh  an  im.agination, 
whose  telescopic  glance  reveals  the  most  distant 
mysteries  of  nature's  amplitudes," and  a  power  of 
reasoning  bringing  all  to  the  test  of  microscopical 
examination.  What  a  combination!  What  a  man- 
ifold fitness  of  purpose!  What  a  power  is  thus 
presented!  It  mcreases  while  we  contemplate  it. 
It  expands  while  with  our  feeble  faculties  we  strive 
to  grasp  it,  until  it  seems  co-extensive  with  that 
boundless  region  which  is  to  be  the  theatre  of  its 
action,  and  its  limits  elude  the  eye,  in  the  shades 
of  infinity. 

The  phenomena  of  sleep  may  elucidate  the  effect 
which  we  have  ascribed  to  the  abstraction  of  spirit 
from  material  influences.  It  may,  in  all  that  re- 
lates to  ^our  argument,  be  considered  as  a  partial 
death,  which  abstracts  us  from  the  realities  of  sense, 
which  shuts  out  the  physical  world,  and  the  atten- 
tion being  thus  freed  from  the  distracting  influence 
of  surrounding  objects,  acquire  a  concentration  of 


OF   FUTURITY.  '  51 

energy,  giving  us  that  command  of  the  processes 
of  ideahty,  which  imparts  such  unearthly  vividness 
to  our  dreams.  The  connexion  between  reason 
and  imagination  is  not  yet  sufficiently  complete;  we 
are  not  sufficiently  habituated  to  dealing  with  ideals 
so  completely  detatched  from  signs  and  reality; 
some  of  the  faculties  necessary  to  a  perfect  action 
are  dormant;  and  incoherence  and  error  are  very 
frequently  the  consequence,*  but  the  great  activity 

*The  apparent  incoherence  of  dreams,  is  probably  very  much  ex- 
aggerated, by  our  viewing  them  as  abstract  operations  of  the  mind. 
Knowing  that  our  senses  are  at  the  time  inert,  we  very  naturally  class 
them  with  tliose  mental  exercises,  which  we  are  accustomed  to  pursue 
with  the  least  reference  to  sensation,  and  suppose  they  should  be  cou' 
nected  by  the  same  laws  of  association  as  govern  this  class  of  our  wak- 
ing thoughts.  These  failing  to  account  for  their  singular  combination, 
they  eppear  mysterious,  but  the  difficulty  will  in  very  many  instances 
be  removed,  if  we  look  upon  tliem  as  imitations  of  the  effect  of  sensa- 
tion or  ideal,  which  the  increased  vigor  of  the  imagination,  arising 
from  causes  already  explained,  enables  it  to  produce  with  great  celeri- 
ty. When  we  class  them  with  abstraction,  we  state  tliem  in  terms, 
audin  the  relations  of  these  terms,  seek  the  associations  by  which  one 
idea  has  been  made  to  follow  another.  In  this  we  are  of  course  baf- 
fled, but  objects,  events,  emotions,  or  their  immediate  representative, 
ideals,  maj  accrue  in  any  conceivable  order  of  succession,  and  in  our 
waking  reveries,  are  sometimes  recalled  with  scarcely  less  incongrui- 
ty, than  tliey  assume  in  dreams.  In  dreaming',  these  are  sometimes 
mingled  with  trains  of  abstraction,  which  being  expressed  in  terms, 
produce  a  heterogeneous  mass  of  reasoning  and  imagery,  the  atten^ 
tion  often  oscillating  between  the  two,  so  that  in  the  order  in  which 
they  occur,  they  appear  in  strange  confusion,  when  if  separated  into 
two  distinct  trains,  the  one  might  assume  the  form  of  abstiaction,  and 
the  other  be  within  the  usual  limits  of  ideality.  It  is  possible  tliat 
when  we  dream  of  using  terms  (of  reading  for  instance)  that  we  do 
not  always  do  it,  the  ideas,  the  manner,  the  sensations,  incident  to 
reading,  al!  taking  the  form  of  ideals.     However  this  may  be,  it  can- 


62  LANGUAGE 

of  the  mind,  the  facihty  with  which  it  accompHshes 
many  intellectual  operations,  and  the  unwonted  vig- 
or of  its  perceptions  during  this  temporary  suspen- 
sion, may  assist  us  to  some  faint  idea  of  what  a  more 
perfect  alienation  from  all  that  is  material  may  ef- 
fect. 

There  is  a  pleasant  mode  of  investigation  which 
the  mind  often  resorts  to,  in  the  form  of  ideal  con- 
versations with  absent  friends.  We  conceive  them 
present,  state  our  own  views  and  imagine  what  they 
would  reply.  From  the  knowledge  which  we  have 
acquired  of  their  intellectual  habits,  we  adopt  sim- 
ilar modes,  and  endeavor  to  get  into  the  same  chan- 
nels of  thought  which  they  would  pursue.  We  fol- 
low them  to  their  conclusions,  and  modify  our  own 
accordingly.      The   advantages   which  result  from 

not  be  doubted  that  this  element  preponderates  in  our  dreams;  and 
hence  the  effect  of  applying  the  rigid  laws  of  narration  or  abstraction 
to  this  poetic  mode  of  mind.  Many  of  our  waking  reveries,  and  some 
written  poetry  would  not  bear  the  application  of  such  a  test.  The 
following  instance  is  selected  as  one  of  the  most  common  and  sim- 
ple forms  of  what  may  be  called  incoherent  dreams. 

The  narrator  dreamed  that  he  was  settling  a  mercantile  account. 
Having  completed  the  additions  he  said  the  balance  is  two  hundred 
dollars,  to  which  I  must  add  the  interest— all  the  angles  of  a  triangle 
are  equal  to  two  right  angles,  which  makes  the  balance  just  two  hun- 
dred and  twelve  dollars.  He  awoke  wondering  what  the  theorem  had 
to  do  with  the  balance  of  the  account.  But  when  awake,  the  pres- 
enceof  a  geometrical  work  open  at  this  iheorem,  might  have  forced  it 
on  his  attention,  between  the  premises  which  he  had  stated,  and  the 
conclusion  vihirh  he  had  in  view.  Had  an  ideal  of  any  object  usually 
connected  with  accounts  thus  presented  itself,  its  intrusion  might 
liave  passed  unnoticed,  or  as  no  more  than  a  common  and  natural  oc- 
cwrence. 


OF   FUTURIXr.  OO 

this  practice  are  like  those  which  arise  from  the 
actual  interchange  of  sentiments  and  opinions  with 
the  persons  supposed  to  be  present.  We  are  led 
to  view  the  subject  in  various  aspects,  and  feel,  to 
a  sufficient  extent,  the  excitement  which  usually 
arises  from  real  conversations  upon  subjects  and 
with  individuals  of  our  choice.  In  sleep — that 
state  which  most  nearly  approaches  to  that  of 
death,  and  in  which  the  spirit  acts  most  independ- 
ently of  external  circumstances,  this  power  of 
adopting  the  thoughts  of  our  friends  is  so  greatly 
increased,  that  we  hardly  suspect  it  of  being  the 
same  which  we  exert  in  our  waking  reveries. 
How  often  in  our  dreams  are  we  surprised  by  the 
turns  given  to  the  current  of  our  thoughts,  by  a 
remark,  which  we  imagine  comes  from  some  one 
present.  Sometimes  when  dreaming  that  we  are 
engaged  in  argument,  and  when  we  suppose  we 
have  demonstrated  our  position,  we  find  our  con- 
fidence shaken  by  some  new  view,  or  some  argu- 
ment thus  presented,  so  suddenly  and  so  unexpect- 
ed, that  it  seems  impossible  that  it  should  have  had 
its  origin  in  our  own  minds.  It  seems  strange 
that  our  own  thought  should  come  thus  unexpected- 
ly upon  us.  But  we  are  sometimes  no  less  surprised 
by  a  new  view  suddenly  occurring  to  us  when 
iawake;  and  that  which  takes  place  in  dreaming,  is 
but  a  new  view  to  which  we  have  been  led  by  im- 
agining how  another  would  look  at  it. 

These  views,  and  the  terms  in  which  they   are 

E 


54  LANGUAGE 

expressed  in  our  dreams,  are  strikingly  true  to  the 
modes  of  thought  and  expression  usually  adopted 
by  the  persons  to  whom  we  impute  them,  and 
while  in  many  instances,  if  we  had  met  with  them 
when  awake,  \:e  should  without  hesitation  have 
ascribed  them  to  the  same  individuals,  we  are 
struck  with  the  fact,  that  they  are  widely  different 
from  our  own  accustomed  modes. 

Such  dreams  present  another  phenomenon  still 
more  rema:rkable  and  mysterious.  In  some  in- 
stances we  do  not  immediately  understand  the  con- 
nexion of  the  argument,  which  we  think  we  have 
heard  from  the  lips  of  another,  with  the  subject  un- 
der discussion.  The  question  arises,  how  could 
we  have  ourselves  framed  the  argument  without 
having  perceived  the  connexion.  Is  it  that  the 
views  which  we  thus  perceive  through  the  optics  of 
another,  flit  before  us  as  our  own  waking  thoughts 
sometimes  do,  without  our  being  able  to  arrest 
them — that  w^e  get  a  glimpse  of  an  idea  and  of  its 
application  to  the  subject,  then  lose  it,  and  are 
obliged  to  re-examine  before  we  can  again  per- 
ceive it?  ■  We  confess  that  this  is  not  a  sufficient 
explanation  of  all  the  facts  of  this  kind,  within  our 
knowledge,  and  we  apprehend  that  most  persons 
will  be  able  to  call  to  mind  some  for  which  it  does 
not  furnish  a  satisfactory  solution.  But  that  the 
mind  has  a  power  by  which  it  can  in  some  degree 
avail  itself  of  the  aid  of  those  which  are  absent — 
by  which  though  it  cannot  perceive  their  thoughts^ 


OF   FUTURITi'.  55 

it  can  determine  what  they  probably  would  think  if 
the  subject  were  presented  to  them;  and  that  this 
power  is  manifested  in  a  much  higher  degree  in 
that  state  of  mind  which  approaches  most  nearly 
to  that  of  its  separate  condition,  appears  to  us,  to 
indicate  the  existence  of  a  latent  faculty  or  sympa- 
thy, by  which  in  a  more  perfect  state,  each  mind 
may  avail  itself  of  the  thoughts  of  others  without 
the  medium  of  terms. 

Will  it  still  be  said  that  this  is  but  an  empty 
speculation,  liaving  no  practical  application.  To 
us  it  seems  to  bear. upon  a  subject  of  great  impor- 
tance, and  one  in  which  all  must  feel  an  interest. 
We  regard  it  as  a  ray  of  light  gilding  the  closing 
scenes  of  life,  and  dimly  revealing  a  connexion 
with  that  future,  where  we  delight  to  group  aU  that 
ideality  pictures  as  lovely  or  ennobhng,  and  where 
we  expect  to  realize  these  visions  of  pure  felicity, 
which  a  partial  cultivation  of  our  spiritual  nature, 
has  here  shown  to  be  congenial  to  its  highest  de- 
velopement.  But  how  few  even  of  such  natures, 
contemplate  these  delightful  anticipations  unalloyed 
with  painful  apprehension. 

The  isolated  paradise  they  gazo  upon  is  beauti- 
ful, but  appears  to  be  surrounded  by  a  troubled  and 
unfathomable  abyss.  It  is  the  distance  at  which 
they  locate  it,  and  the  dark  mystery  which  super- 
stition has  thrown  around  it,  which  fills  them  with 
gloomy  forebodings.  Whatever  then  has  a  tenden- 
cy to  destroy  ibis  illusion  and  exhibit,  however  ob- 


56  LANGUAGE   OF 

scurely,  the  channels  by  which  the  present  flows 
into  the  future,  gives  confidence  to  hope  and  dis- 
arms death  of  doubt  and  despair.  Such  we  be- 
heve  to  be  the  effect  of  contemplating  the  nature, 
and  observing  the  influence  of  the  purer  forms  of 
ideality. 

On  this  subject  we  apprehend  that  much  error 
prevails.  However  highly  wrought  the  popular 
notions  of  the  future  may  be,  they  are  generally  of 
that  vague  and  unsettled  character,  which  produce 
little  or  no  practical  influence.  They  interest  only 
those  feelings  which  are  acted  upon  by  the  power 
of  mystery,  and  even  the  virtuous  shrink  from  it 
as  from  a  dreaded  unknown.  This  is  indeed  to 
them  an  empty  speculation,  having  no  higher  influ- 
ence on  their  thoughts  thanbaseless  visions  of  hope 
or  fear  can  produce.  But  it  is  such  views  as  the 
one  we  have  endeavored  to  exhibit,  which  gives 
this  airy  nothing  a  local  habitation  in  our  hearts, 
which  turns  the  illusion  into  reality  and  bodies  it 
forth  in  all  its  brightness,  which  extends  our  thoughts 
and  our  affections  there  and  attaches  to  it  all  the 
interest  of  a  future  home,  and  identifies  it  with  all 
the  glowing  anticipations  and  noble  aspirations  of 
the  soul — which  enables  us  to  see  the  connexion 
between  our  present  and  future  existence  as  clearly 
as  we  perceive  that  between  youth  and  age,  and  to 
estimate  the  influence  of  the  one  upon  the  other, 
with  as  much  certainty  as  the  boy  can  anticipate 
the  effect  of  youthful  virtue  and  exertion  on  his  fu- 


OF    FUTURITY 


tiire  manhood;  and  it  is  the  extension  of  such  views 
that  can  dissipate  the  gloom  which  hangs  over  the 
entrance  to  futurity,  and  so  strip  death  of  its  mys- 
terious terrors,  that  we  shall  view  it  only  as  an 
event  in  the  life  of  the  soul,  which  increases  its, 
vigor  and  introduces  it  to  a  higher  field  of  action. 
h  will  appear  as  little  more  than  a  line  in  the  path 
of  our  advancement,  marking  our  entrance  into  an- 
other and  a  better  territory,  where  the  efflorescence 
of  a  milder  clime  bursts  upon  us;  where  the  allur- 
ing paths  of  ideahty  never  lead  to  error;  where  the 
frost  of  care  and  the  blight  of  disappointment  are 
unknown,  but  where  in  the  bland  influence  of  a 
perennial  spring,  the  flowers  of  fancy  are  continu- 
ally opening  from  the  buds  of  feehng,  and  at  the 
same  time  maturing  to  the  fruit  of  knowledge,  re- 
freshing and  invigorating  the  soul  with  new  and  va- 
ried manifestation  of  beauty  and  excellence. 

It  may  be  apprehended  that  the  tendency  of  such 
views  of  future  happiness,  and  such  unalloyed  con- 
fidence in  its  being  the  immediate  effect  of  the  sep- 
aration of  what  in  us  is  pure  and  spiritual  from  what 
is  material,  would  be  to  render  us  dissatisfied  with 
our  present  condition.  But  even  in  regard  to  things 
temporal,  bright  anticipations  do  not  make  us  less 
happy,  and  if  they  sometimes  induce  a  restless,  Ic" 
verish  anxiety  for  their  attainment,  it  probably  arises 
from  an  impression  that  the  season  of  their  enjoy- 
ment is  limited  and  will  be  shortened  by  delay; 
whereas  in  our  contemplations  of  eternity,  although 


y 


58  LANGUAGE 

we  may  not  be  able  to  grasp  its  infinity,  we  are  im- 
pressed with  a  consciousness  that  it  is  long  enough 
for  the  fulfilment  of  our  anticipations  at  whatever 
period  they  may  commence.  It  may  also  be  re- 
marked, that  the  increase  of  happiness  arising  from 
that  mental  and  moral  cultivation  which  enables  us 
to  form  these  brighter  and  nobler  views  of  our  des- 
tiny is  more  than  sufficient  to  make  us  satisfied — it 
gives  zest  to  life.  To  a  mind  thus  accustomed  to 
observe  its  own  progress  in  virtue  and  excellence, 
there  can  be  nothing  terrible  in  that  which  merely 
accellerates  it.  It  is  only  those  who  are  entirely 
absorbed  in  transitory  pursuits,  having  no  partici- 
pation in  the  dehghts  of  a  cultivated  mind;  no  idea 
of  bliss  purely  spiritual;  no  conception  of  a  heaven 
not  material,  that  the  change  wrought  by  death  is 
associated  with  all  that  is  gloomy  and  appalling. — 
Remove  from  them  the  material  world,  and  nothing 
but  a  fearful  blank,  an  abhorred  vacuum  remains. 
Engaged  only  with  objects  of  sense,  ideality  has 
not  revealed  to  them  the  more  exalted  sources  of 
interest,  and  the  idea  of  separation  from  all  that  has 
engrossed  their  thoughts,  from  all  that  has  made 
mind  manifest,  must  appear  to  them  scarcely  less 
dreadful  than  annihilation.  If  such  be  the  condi- 
tion of  those  who  have  neglected  to  improve,  the 
case  is  yet  worse  with  those  who  have  perverted 
their  highest  powers,  who  have  called  them  into 
action  but  only  to  degrade  them — who  have  known 
and  felt  the  powerful  workings  of  spirit,  but  only 


OF  FUTURITY.  59 

through  its  influence  on  lacerated  feelings — its  con- 
vulsive throes  to  extricate  itself  from  the  degrading 
shackles  of  vice,  and  its  ineffectual  efforts  to  rise 
and  expand  in  its  proper  sphere.  It  is  here  that 
ideality,  still  vivifying  and  giving  intensity  to  the 
feelings,  portrays  its  darkest  picture. 

We  have  before  incidentally  remarked,  and  at 
the  same  time  attempted  to  explain  the  fact,  that 
poetry  is  the  source  of  feelings  the  most  exquisite 
and  exalting,  or  acute  and  overwhelming.  We  as- 
cribed this  to  tbe  power  of  calling  up  ideals  with  all 
the  vividness  of  reality,  yet  divested  of  the  modifying 
circumstances  of  real  life.  We  have  since  pointed 
out  other  causes  of  its  increase  of  power,  particu- 
larly those  which  we  have  supposed  to  arise  from 
the  separation  of  the  soul  and  body  by  death.  Tra- 
cing it  in  its  progress,  we  see  it  while  yet  within 
reach  of  our  finite  faculties,  becoming  a  source  of 
pure,  unspeakable  enjoyment  to  the  elevated  and 
virtuous,  and  the  converse  wall  reveal  to  us  that  it 
is  an  equally  efficient  means  of  punishment  to  the 
degenerate  spirit.  It  reaches  our  innermost  feel- 
ings, and  puts  in  action  all  the  dormant  elements  of 
pleasure  or  pain.  We  know  not  that  any  descrip- 
tion of  spiritual  punishment,  has  yet  gone  further 
than  to  picture  vi^hat  we  here  observe,  in  that  figur- 
ative language  in  which  ideality  is  so  frequently  era- 
bodied.  We  here  see  those  who  are  degraded  by 
avarice,  incessantly  terning  the  iron  wheel:  the  man 
of  low  ambition,  forever  rolls   the  recoiling  stone: 


60  LANGUAGE. 

he  who  seeks  gratification  in  the  perversion  of  his 
moral  feehngs,  is  continually  drawing  from  the  wells 
of  pleasm^e  vessels  which  will  hold  no  water:  and 
that  even  here,  the  heart  and  spirits  of  the  volup- 
tuary are  perpetually  renewed  only  again  to  be  prey- 
ed upon  by  the  vultures,  satiety  and  remorse. — 
These  are  indeed  but  pictures,  faint  pictures,  of 
the  mental  inquietude,  chagrin  and  desolation — of 
the  bitterness  of  disappointment,  and  the  reproach- 
es of  conscience,  which  in  this  life  attend  trans- 
gression, producing  in  the  vicious,  a  mental  degra- 
dation, a  hideous  blight,  a  loathsome  leprosy  of 
mind  rotting  in  endless  decay;  which,  however 
pride  may  conceal  from  the  world,  or  however  he 
may  strive  to  blunt  his  sensibilities,  and  to  stupify 
and  engross  himself  with  the  distractions  of  sense, 
still  rankles  in  his  bosom,  or  in  the  anguish-riven 
countenance,  gives  convincing  proof  of  the  im- 
mutable and  immediate  connexion  between  vice  and 
misery.  He  may  observe  the  aggravation  of  suf- 
fering which  solitude  and  seclusion  produce  in  him- 
self, or  the  effect  on  others,  when  the  certain  prox- 
imity of  death  has  destroyed  all  interest  in  former 
pursuits — when  shades  of  horror  are  darkening  the 
sublunary  scences  around  him,  and  the  mind  no 
longer  buoyed  up  by  the  levities  and  engrossments 
of  the  world,  reverts  to  itself,  and  there  meets  the 
long  smothered,  the  avenging  secrets  of  the  past, 
just  bursting  their  chains,  with  resistless  energy 
overpowering  the  soul,  and  exhibiting  themselves 


OF   FUTURITY.  61 

n  the  diabolical  contortions  and  horrid  writhings  of 
their  victim.  These  effects  of  a  partial  withdraw- 
ing from  material  things,  furnish  him  with  a  data 
from  which  he  may  calculate,  with  something  like 
arithmetical  precision,  the  climax  to  which  it  must 
arrive  when  the  mind  is  entirely  deprived  of  its 
present  resources:  when  it  can  no  longer  drown  an 
upbraiding  conscience  in  the  tumult,  nor  divert  at- 
tention in  the  busthng  pursuits  of  life:  when  the 
host  of  vile  recollections,  the  remorse  and  bitter- 
ness of  the  past,  are  mirrored  back  in  multiform 
and  magnified  reflection  in  the  maddening  anticipa- 
tions of  the  future,  depicted  with  all  the  vividness 
of  a  dream,  yet  with  all  the  coherence,  and  all  the 
consequences  of  reality:  when  the  fire  which  has 
long  raged  within,  has  burst  its  earthly  bonds,  and 
displays  its  volcanic  energy  in  the  uncontrollable 
ravings  of  torturing,  phrensied  feelings;  while  from 
the  abyss  of  the  past,  lava  torrents  of  reproach  and 
shame  whelm  the  soul  in  a  guilty  delirium;  and 
visionary  and  dreadful  phantasms,  mock  its  night- 
mare efforts  to  escape  these  emanations  and  shad- 
ows of  itself;  and  all  acting  upon  the  ferment- 
ing energies  of  a  mind  nervously  awake  to  the 
exigencies  of  its  condition,  and  wrought  to  its  ut- 
most intensity,  not  with  the  buoyant  excitement  of 
hope,  but  w^ith  the  dreadful  agony  of  despair.  Will 
not  the  consideration  of  this  rapid  progression,  hur- 
ry him  to  the  result,  and  force  upon  him  the  con- 
viction, that  he  has  within  himself — that  a  corrupt- 


62  IMAGINATION  AND   REASON. 

ed  heart,  a  degraded  intellect,  and  brutal  passions, 
are  the  crude  elements  of  a  hell,  more  terrific  than 
any  which  has  been  realized  from  all  the  physical 
torture  which  superstition  has  conceived,  or  fanat- 
icism attempted  to  portray.  The  fact  that  he  has 
already  witnessed  its  commencement,  and  the  con- 
viction that  its  consummation  depends  only  on  the 
stablity  of  the  laws  of  nature,  (or  as  we  would  ra- 
ther say,  on  the  continuance  of  the  uniform  modes 
of  Deity)  of  which  we  already  have,  the  evidence, 
and  can  in  some  degree  estimate,  gives  it  an  ap- 
palling certainty.  We  know  that  its  fulfilment  will 
be  but  the  natural  effect  of  causes  which  are  attest- 
ed by  human  consciousness,  and  hence  we  per- 
ceive that  it  needs  not  a  special  interference  of 
Deity  to  accomplish,  but  that  it  would  require  a 
piir^cle,  perhaps  more  than  a  miracle  to  prevent  it= 


The  imagination  being  the  most  excursive  fac- 
ulty, and  describing  that  which  it  rapidly  glances 
over,  by  analogies  to  what  was  before  known,  and', 
by  refinements  of  the  language  which  already  exists, 
has  a  greater  celerity  than  reason,  which  follows 
with  assured  and  cautious  steps,  and  has  to  adapt 
a  language  of  terms  to  every  new  discovery.  The 
former  sweeps  the  distant  verge  of  the  dim  horizon, 
and    communicates    the   results   of  her  desultory 


IMAGINATION  AND   REASON-  63 

search,  in  shadowy  forms,  which  the  latter  con- 
denses into  terms,  and  brings  to  the  test  of  a  more 
critical  examination.  She  then  embodies,  organ- 
ises, and  extends  her  dominion  over  the  newly  ac- 
quired territory,  forming  on  its  remotest  confines, 
more  distant  stations,  and  with  its  treasures  raising 
higher  the  monuments  of  her  power,  from  which 
fancy  may  again  take  its  survey,  and  extend  its  ho- 
rison  over  yet  more  remote  regions. 

In  the  natural  order  of  events  then  ideality  pre- 
cedes reasoning,  and  if  poetry  has  not  always  pre- 
sented the  first  indications  of  remote  truth,  it  is  be- 
cause of  the  superior  discipline  and  perseverance 
of  men  of  abstraction,  or  perhaps  oftener,  because 
her  own  votaries  have  abandoned  their  high  office 
of  telescopic  observers,  and  ingloriously  contented 
themselves  with  a  more  humble  and  limited  occu- 
pation of  their  talents.  Happy  mortals!  who  with 
the  most  exalting  and  soul  kindling  endowments, 
with  powers  which  might  exert  a  happy  and  im- 
mortal influence  on  the  destinies  of  man;  are  still 
content  to  tread  the  level  and  beaten  track  of  un- 
ambitious life;  who  find  ample  amusement  in  gath- 
ering the  flowers  and  picking  up  the  pebbles  they 
chance  to  meet  with,  and  sufficient  excitement  in 
the  dubious  and  ephemeral  fame  which  may  attend 
their  success.  They  suffer  themselves  to  be  qui- 
etly enslaved  by  these  sweet  enticements,  and  en- 
ervated in  gentle  dalliance  with  such  pretty  toys. 
Their  souls  lose  the  power  of  lofty  effort;  they 


64  IMAGINATION  AND   REASON. 

shrink  from  the   contest,  and  are  no  longer  candi- 
dates for  eternity. 

Some  of  these,  more  skilled  than  others  in  the 
mechanism  of  verse,  form  these  insignificant  trifles 
into  poetic  kaliedascopes,  where  they  appear  with 
all  the  charms  which  varied  arrangement,  and  mul- 
tiplied and  harmonious  reflection  can  bestow  on 
such  common  place  materials.  We  turn  them 
round,  and  are  amused  for  the  moment;  but  change 
itself  soon  ceases  to  be  novelty,  and  even  variety 
becomes  monotonous.  He  who  aspires  to  immor- 
tality, must  add  to  these  every  day  beauties  of  na- 
ture, more  rare  and  costly  materials,  derived  from 
less  accessible  sources.  He  must  labor  in  the 
mines  of  thought,  and  give  the  extracted  gems  the 
soul-lit  sparkling  polish  which  genius  can  bestow; 
and  from  ocean  depths  of  feeling,  bring  pearls  of 
purity  and  loveliness.  He  must  cultivate  an  inti- 
macy with  nature  in  all  her  forms.  He  must  gam- 
bol with  her  in  her  frolics;  he  must  meditate  with 
her  in  her  tranquil  scenes;  or  rush  with  her  into 
the  tempest,  and  witness  the  strife  of  elements. 
With  her  he  must  seize  the  roaring  ocean  by  its 
mane,  and  mingle  with  the  lightning,  and  hold  com- 
munion with  the  thunder  of  the  storm;  or  with  a 
nobler  effort,  and  a  higher  aim,  soar  aloft  on  the 
aspiring  wing  of  fancy,  and  with  the  unshrinking 
eye,  and  the  daring  hand  of  genius,  cull  the  ra- 
diance of  the  welkin  arch,  and  bring  its  star-lit 
splendors,  fresh  and  sparkling  to  adorn  his  page. 


MUSIC.  65 

With  such  splendid  materials  he  must  illuminate 
and  adorn  the  path  to  those  distant  truths,  which 
his  far  searching  vision  has  first  distinctly  revealed 
to  himself  alone.  These  he  must  am})lify  with  the 
powers  of  that  language  which  is  exclusively  his 
own — a  language  which  free  from  vulgar  associa- 
tions, elevates  the  reader  into  a  higher,  purer,  no- 
bler region  of  thought.  His  discoveries  are  prim- 
itive perceptions,  and  a  skilful  use  of  the  language 
of  ideality  can  alone  enable  him  fully  to  impart 
them  to  others.  With  this  he  exhibits  thera  with 
the  impress  of  his  own  intellect  and  sensibility. 
He  portrays  them  as  they  exist  in  his  own  mind, 
with  the  same  vivid  coloring  and  sparkling  radiance, 
illustrated  by  striking  analogies,  and  connected 
with  associations  so  varied  and  diffusive,  that  to 
the  utmost  stretch  of  vision,  it  presents  new  and 
delightful  combinations,  and  in  its  farthest  outline, 
seems  still  expanding  like  the  inappreciable  and 
intangible  emotions  of  music. 

The  inappreciable  and  intangible  emotions  of  mu- 
sic. These  words  have  produced  an  effect  which  we 
have  already  ascribed  to  the  use  of  terms.  They 
have  led  us  on  to  a  point,  from  which  we  perceive 
the  adumbrations  of  another  bright  spot  in  this  unex- 
plored wilderness;  in  advance,  yet  immediately  con- 
nected with  that  in  which  we  have  already  expatiat- 
ed. It  is  the  connexion  of  poetry  with  music.  If  we 
have  observed  the  fitness  of  the  former  to  the  sub- 
jects of  feeling  and  of  spirit,  do  we  not  perceive 

F 


66  CONNEXION    OF    POETRY 

something  in  the  latter,  still  more  evidently  having 
relation  to  some  higher  purpose  than  that  of  our  phys- 
ical existence?  Is  there  not  in  these  indescribable 
emotions — something  which  we  h'ere  in  vain  attempt 
to  grasp,  more  comprehensive,  more  etherial  even 
than  poetry — a  benign  influence,  which  gleams  on 
the  soul,  and  as  a  ray  of  light  in  its  rapid  course, 
just  rouses  its  energies,  and  sweeps  endlessly  on 
through  infinity?  With  any  power  of  attention 
which  we  here  enjoy,  and  with  the  limited  means 
which  we  here  possess  of  imparting  these  emotions, 
the  sounds  by  which  they  are  usually^  communica- 
ted, require  to  be  dwelt  upon  and  varied.  The 
mind  at  each  successive  variation  pauses  to  exam- 
ine the  sensation;  makes  an  effort  to  identify  the 
indistinct  associations  which  seem  hovering  around 
it,  and  requires  to  dwell  on  them  for  a  moment,  be- 
fore, it  can  be  satisfied  that  they  are  too  etherial  to 
be  fully  appreciated  by  its  blunt  sensibilities,  and 
too  vast  to  be  embraced  by  its  limited  comprehen- 
sion. It  is  a  series  of  excitements,  an  induced  ac- 
tivity to  which  the  soul  is  wrought,  without  any  con- 
scious effort  of  its  own.  But  suppose  music  di- 
vested of  its  sounds  (which  absorb  a  portion  of  the 
attention)  and  the  unmingled  emotions  to  be  im.me- 
diately  imparted  to  spirit  when  the  concentration  of 
attention  will  admit  of  their  passing  in  rapid  and  in- 
tensely exhilerating  succession,  while  the  increase 
of  its  powers  enables  it  to  follow  and  pervade  the 
circle  in  which  each  expands  itself  in  feelings' 
boundlessness. 


WITH  MUSIC.  67 

The  associations  of  music  with  sounds  is  so  gen- 
eral, that  to  some,  even  the  hypothetical  separation 
of  them  may  appear  preposterous.  We  however 
think  it  perfectly  conceivable.  We  apprehend  that 
the  composers  of  music  must  have  the  emotions  in- 
dependent of  the  sounds,  as  the  poet  has  the  ideals 
independent  of  the  terms;  and  we  believe  that 
Shakspeare's  denunciation  of  him  who  has  not  mu- 
sic in  his  soul,  would  have  been  more  justly  ap- 
plied to  those  who  are  destitute  of  these  innate  emo- 
tions, than  to  those  who,  from  organic  defect,  or 
perhaps  from  being  conversant  with  a  superior  har- 
mony within  themselves,  are  less  influenced  by 
mere  sounds,  however  mellifeuous  and  delightiul  to 
better  ears,  or  less  cultivated  sensibilities. 

In  defence  of  the  high  station  which  we  have  as- 
signed to  musical  emotion,  we  may  remark,  that  it 
is  in  the  highest  exaltation  of  mental  action  that 
these  emotions  are  most  perceptible.  The  effects 
of  refined  music  is  very  much  enhanced,  when  the 
mind  is  under  the  influence  of  some  absorbing  sen- 
timent, which  concentrates  its  energies,  while  it 
withdraws  it  from  narrow,  selfish  considerations, and 
inspires  it  with  generous  feeling.  It  is  then  that 
the  fine  tones  within  responsively  swell  the  harmo- 
ny which  blends  with  them  from  without.  We  find 
this  to  be  the  case  when  it  is  kindled  into  enthusi- 
asm by  the  high  and  hallowing  emotions  of  virtuous 
love,  when  our  conceptions  of  loveliness,  purity, 
and  bliss,  so  far  outstrip  our  powers  of  expression, 


68  MUSIC. 

as  to  belong  rather  to  the  empyrial  evanescence  of 
music,  than  to  the  most  etherial  forms  of  poetry. 
When  this  sentiment  reaches  a  still  higher  eleva- 
tion— when  infinite  goodness  becomes  the  object  of 
devotion,  we  find  music,  in  some  of  its  forms,  al- 
most imiversally  associated  with  it.  It  exhibits  it- 
self in  the  rude  worship  of  the  savage,  and  attunes 
the  heart  of  the  most  cultivated  and  refined  sensi- 
bility. We  find  it  in  the  devout  homage  of  the 
heathens;  and  it  lends  its  mellowing  influence  to 
the  forms  of  a  more  enlightened  religion.  It  sof- 
tens the  stern  rigidity  of  the  anchorite,  and  instills 
itself  into  the  pious  meditations  of  the  disciples  of 
a  milder  creed.  It  is  an  elastic  element  ot  mind, 
which  adapts  itself  to  the  various  conditions  of  hu- 
manity. Among  savages,  it  manifests  itself  in  rude, 
barbarous  sounds,  which  appear  to  have  more  con- 
nexion with  physical  than  with  mental  exercise*. 
From  this  low  state  it  rises  through  the  successive 
stages  of  cultivation  to  that  divine  harmony  of  the 
spirit  which  imparts  such  a  delightful  charm,  such 
kindling  rapture  to  the  silent  meditations  of  the  en- 
lightened mind;  and  which,  while  in  the  outward 
creation  it  finds  for  itself  iimum-erable  types  and  re- 
semblances, admits  of  no  generic  sign,  and  no  ex- 
ternal substitute. 

We  may  here  observe  an  effect  of  language  in  all 
its  material  forms.  Like  the  mechanical  powers,  it 
gives  us  efficiency;  but  like  them,  only  at  the  ex- 


LOVE,    POETRY,     ETC.  09 

pense  of  time.  In  the  language  of  naiTation,  it  as- 
sists memory  by  giving  two  separate  objects  of  at- 
tention, either  of  which  will  recall  the  event  or  sub- 
ject of  our  thoughts.  In  the  language  of  abstrac- 
tion, years  have  sometimes  been  employed  in  set- 
tling the  terms  of  a  proposition.  This  induced  a 
more  critical  examination,  and  a  more  thorough  ac- 
quaintance with  the  subject.  In  examining  the  re- 
lations among  terms,  many  others  are  discovered 
besides  those  for  which  we  are  particularly  seeking. 
We  have  already  mentioned  the  effect  of  metre  and 
rhyme,  in  restraining  the  impetuosity  of  the  poet, 
and  giving  fulness  and  variety  to  his  views.  In 
music,  there  appears  to  be  a  yet  further  addition  to 
this  principle,  and  an  extension  of  it  to  the  recipi- 
ent, by  dweUing  on  the  sounds  of  this  artificial  ar- 
rangement. In  all  these  forms  it  retards  us.  Itis 
always  an  incumbrance,  but  like  the  lever,  an  in- 
cumbrance which  our  weakness  renders  essential. 


.We  have  now  seen  language  in  its  simplest  form 
of  narration^  elevating  us  above  the  brute  creation, 
to  social  and  intelligent  beings.  We  have  observ- 
ed, that  in  the  form  of  abstraction,  it  becomes  an 
engine  for  the  acquisition  of  general  knowledge,^ 
and  thus  carries  us  through  another  stage  of  im- 
provement; but  one  in  which  narrow  views  still 
predominate.  We  have  remarked  that  it  still  keeps 
pace  with  our  intellectual  and  moral  advancement. 


70  LOVE,    POETRY, 

and  when  our  enlarging  views  pass  the  boundary  of 
common,  direct  expressions,  it  becomes  elevated 
to  poetry,  which  we  have  supposedto  be  perfected, 
when  spirit  is  purified  from  all  selfishness,  and  in  a 
future  state  to  receive  an  accession  of  power  by 
embracing  the  preceding  forms.  And  we  have 
suggested,  that  this  combination  may,  in  a  yet  fur- 
ther stage  of  advancement,  be  etherialized  and 
sublimated  to  the  more  exquisite  perfection  of  mu- 
sic, which,  tliough  here  but  a  vague  and  misty 
shadow,  may  yet  be  the  first  indication  of  what  is 
there  to  be  embodied  in  the  most  comprehensive, 
})erhaps  infinite  emanations  of  truth  and  beauty. 
This  progression  is  facilitated  by  the  generous 
feelings  which  carry  us  beyond  the  little  circle  of 
common  affairs,  and  particularly  by  those  excite- 
ments which  elevate  us  far  above  them;  for  it  is 
only  in  the  farther  and  higher  departments  of 
thoudit,  that  we  are  compelled  to  think  only  in  the 
poetic  form  of  ideals.  Hence  it  is,  that  this  faculty 
is  so  often  first  developed,  when  love, 

"  That  feeling  from  tlie  Godhead  caught,  . 

lias  won  from  earth  each  sordid  thought," 

and  makes  us  conscious  of  a  happiness  too  gener- 
ous and  exalted,  too  pure  and  etherial,  too  vast 
for  words  to  express.  The  effect  of  this  expan- 
sive sentiment  upon  the  modes  of  thought  and  ex- 
pression, is  one  of  the  most  striking  illustrations  of 
the  theory  we  have  advanced,  and  as  such  deserves 
a  further  notice.     In   its  most   romantic,    and-also 


MUSIC   AND   DEVOTION.  71 

its  most  ennobling  form,  it  is  the  result  of  all  the 
estimable  qualities  which  the  excited  imagination 
of  the  lover  can  combine,  embodied  and  harmoniz- 
ing in  some  pleasing  object,  which  has,  in  some 
generally  unknown  manner,  excited  the  first  emo- 
tion. When  these  perfections  are  different  from 
any  which  we  are  conscious  of  possessing  with- 
in ourselves,  we  have  no  means  of  measuring 
their  extent,  and  the  imagination  may  expand  with- 
out limit  to  meet  its  wants,  or  its  conceptions. 
The  superiority  of  mind  to  matter,  and  the  greater 
expansibihty  of  its  qualities,  indicate  it  as  the  only 
terrestrial  object  capable  of  exciting  this  hallowed 
emotion,  and  the  diversity,  which  is  a  necessary 
element  in  perfecting  it,  is  found  admirably  design- 
ed in  the  modifications  of  the  masculine  and  femi- 
nine characters.  This  is  confirmed  by  common 
observation.  If  these  views  of  the  romantic  pas- 
sion are  correct,  it  is  evident  that  the  imagination 
will  almost  immediately  have  filled  the  measure  of 
this  ideal  excellence — that  it  will  have  reached, 
and  even  gone  beyond  the  tangible  object  of  its 
adoration;  and  hence,  although  it  may  still  retain 
all  that  it  has  gained,  that  object  must  lose  its  pow- 
er of  impelling  it  forward  in  the  flowery  paths  and 
bright  creations  to  which  it  has  introduced  it.  We 
trust  that  we  shall  not  be  suspected  of  intending 
any  disparagement  of  the  sex,  from  whose  purer 
■spirit  first  emanated  the  spark  which  kindled  in  the 
breast  of  man  this  etherial  flame. 


72  LOVE,   POETRV, 

It  is  much,  that  woman  has  made  us  acquamted 
with  one  of  the  infinite  tendencies  of  the  soul,  to 
fill  the  never  ending  expansion  of  which,  she  must 
be  more  than  angel.  Must  this  influence  then  be 
arrested  and  the  consequent  improvement  cease? 
Has  this  spirituality  been  awakened  in  the  soul, 
only  to  shed  a  momentary  gleam  of  romance  over 
the  reahiies  of  life?  Analogy  rejects  the  idea;  it 
must  serve  some  higher  purpose.  And  observing  - 
the  path  of  our  progression,  is  it  not  obvious  that 
this  finite  feehng  may  be  merged  in  the  love  of  that 
which  is  infinite;  and  in  the  attributes  of  God  find 
an  illimitable  field  for  its  expansion,  where  every 
new  elevation  but  reveals  more  to  admirje,  adore, 
and  love;  thus  forever  presenting  a  standard  of  su- 
perior excellence,  and  forever  winning  us  towards 
perfection?  There  is,  on  this  account,  a  manifest 
advantage  in  the  Deity  not  being  present  to  our 
senses  in  any  definite,  tangible  form.  His  power, 
wisdom,  goodness,  and  every  perfection,  are  man- 
ifested to  us,  only  in  the  beauty,  grandeur,  and  de- 
signs of  his  creation;  but  these  evidences  are  so 
obvious,  so  numerous  and  so  varied,  that  every 
one  may  discern  the  qualities  and  combine  them  so 
as  to  form  the  precise  character  which  will  corres- 
pond to  his  idea  of  perfection,  and  which  he  can 
most  admire,  love^  and  adore.  A  beau  ideal,  in 
which  increased  clearness  of  perception  will  only'  • 
discover  new  beauty,  and  on  which  he  may  forever 
expatiate,  and  yet  not  sum  up  all  its  excellencies 


MUSIC   AND   DEVOTION.  73 

— in  which  his  admiration  will  be  perpetually  ex- 
cited by  new  and  delightfid  discovery — which  will 
continually  adapt  itself  to  the  change  and  enlarge- 
ment of  his  views  of  perfection,  and  appear  more 
beautiful  and  lovely,  the  more  he  contemplates  it. 
His  most  exalted  conceptions  of  excellence  may 
here  always  be  realized,  and  the  mode  of  mind  is 
love  etherialized,  love  sublimated  to^  devotion,  and 
resting  not  on  the  fleeting  shadows  of  a  feverish 
imagination,  but  on  the  infinite  and  immutable  at- 
tributes of  a  Being,  that  can  never  be  the  subject 
of  those  changes  and  misfortunes,  the  thought  of 
which  will  sometimes  break  upon  the  transports  of 
the  most  impassioned  lover.  The  thought  of  one 
beloved,  and  with  whom  fancy  has  associated  eve- 
ry human  excellence  and  angelic  loveliness,  has 
often  elevated  the  mind  above  criminal  or  ignoble 
conduct;  and  if  religion  had  done  no  more  than 
furnish  us  with  an  ideal,  in  which  we  group  every 
perfection,  she  would  still  have  done  much  to  pu- 
rify the  heart,  ennoble  the  mind,  and  bless  and 
protect  our  race.  Whether  the  object,  with  which 
we  associate  this  ideal  excellence,  be  human  or 
divine,  the  effect  of  contemplating  it  will  be  tJie 
same  in  kind,  though  varying  in  degree:  the  ten- 
dency in  either  case  being  to  produce  that  eleva- 
tion of  soul,  purity  of  sentiment,  and  refinement  of 
feeling,  which  are  the  natural  guardians  of  virtue. 
It  is  in  this  view,  that  we  may  realize  the  fulness 
of  an  apothegm  of  Madame  De  Stsel,  and  perceive 


74  LOVE,    POETRY, 

how  much  more  than  the  mere  truism  is  conveyed 
in  her  expression,  "  to  love  God  is  still  to  love." 
We  again  repeat,  that  to  a  mind  accustomed  to 
observe  and  to  contemplate  its  advancement  in  this 
delightful  progression,  there  can  be  nothing  terri- 
ble in  that  which  merely  accellerates  it.  -^ 

The  observed  connexion  between  refined  intelli- 
gence, enthusiasm,  love,  poetry,  music  and  devo- 
tion, bears  a  striking  analogy  to  that  so  often  no- 
ticed by  natural  philosophers,  between  heat,  light, 
magnetism,  galvinism,  electricity,  vitality,  and  the 
nervous  fluid.  An  ingenious  attempt,*  has  not 
long  since  been  made  to  elucidate  the  latter,  by  a 
division  of  matter  into  two  classes;  the  one  called 
common  matter,  having  the  property  of  concreting 
by  an  attractive  power;  the  other  or  etherial  mat- 
ter, having  the  property  of  expanding  by  an  inhe- 
rent repelling  tendency.  All  the  phenomena  allud- 
ed to,  and  indeed  all  other  in  the  material  world, 
are  referred  to  combinations  of  these  two,  varying 
as  the  one  or  the  other  predominates  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree.  Pursuing  the  analogy,  we  may  divide 
our  moral  naturei  nto  two  elements — the  one  having 
An  influence  to  contract,  and  keep  as  within  the 
narrow  limits  of  gross  and  grovelling  occupations, 
and  to  which  we  may  ascribe  all  the  selfish  feelings, 
which  have  no  higher  object  than  physical  exist- 

*iJltiinate  Principles,  Sec.  by  Lardner,  VaDUxum. 


A 


MUSIC   AND  DEVOTION.  75 

ence,  or  sensual  pleasure,  and  if  unaided,  in  its 
best  estate,  reaching  no  higher  elevation  than  me- 
chanical reasoning, — and  refer  the  greater  refine- 
ments of  reason,  and  the  generous  and  exalted 
emotions  of  enthusiasm,  love,  poetry,  music,  and 
devotion,  to  the  predominance  of  a  finer  and  purer 
essence,  already  exhibiting  its  infinite  tendency, 
and  destined,  when  freed  from  its  connexion  with 
the  gross  and  sensual,  to  expand  in  the  purer  re- 
gions of  an  undefined  immensity. 

The  calculations  of  avarice,  and  the  sordid  max- 
ims of  selfishness,  are  easily  embraced  in  finite 
terms;  and  the  language  of  abstraction,  even  when 
directed  to  more  ennobling  pursuits,  has  a  constant 
tendency  to  narrow  the  path  of  our  advancement, 
and  lead  us  to  subtle  rather  than  improving  results. 
The  processes  of  ideality,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
constantly  widening  and  giving"  us  more  expanded 
views.  We  would  therefore  suggest  that  the  latent 
connexion  which  exists  between  the  purer  feelings 
and  sentiments,  arises  from  their  all  flowing  from 
this  source,  and  the  property,  which  they  conse- 
quently have  of  gratifying  our  desire  for  the  infinite. 
Thus,  for  instance,  arises  the  association  of  music 
with  devotion.  The  former  consists  of  sounds  so 
contrived  that  no  one  appears  ever  to  reach  an  end, 
but  to  elude  us  rather  than  to  cease,  and  these  in 
forms  so  varied,  as  to  create  the  impression  that 
they  flow  from  some  exhaustless  source;'  while  the 
latter  is  an  analogous  system  of  ideas,  expanding 


>. 


76  LOVE,   POETRY, 

without  limit  and  modified  without  end,  and  so  ha- 
bitual is  the  association  of  sounds  with  ideas,  that 
the  recipient  of  the  former  often  erroneously  sup- 
poses he  is  possessing  himself  of  the  latter.  Mu- 
sic may  thus  satisfy  the  infinite  tendencies  of  our 
nature  without  affording  it  any  substantial  nourish- 
ment, and  thus  instead  of  imparting  energy  to  those 
exalted  feelings,  create  a  morbid  sensibility,  pro- 
ducing disease,  debility  and  decay. 

If  however  the  state  of  feeling  which  is  produc- 
ed by  symphony,  is  smiilar  to  that  which  best  ap- 
preciates moral  excellence,  it  may  be  useful  in  re- 
ligious exercises.  It  may  assist  in  unfohhng  the 
moral  harmonies.  Or  if  the  state  of  mind  which 
observes  the  delicate  relations  of  sounds,  is  an- 
alogous to  that  which  perceives  the  delicate  re- 
lations of  ideas,  it  may  be  useful  in  education; 
but  in  both  cases,  care  must  be  taken  that  it  be 
made  a  means,  and  not  an  end.  There  are  other 
sensible  phenomena,  which  are  perhaps,  even  more 
generally,  associated  with  devotional  feelings  than 
music.  The  vast  expanse  and  endless  roar  of 
ocean — the  never  dying  murmur  of  the  forest — 
mountains  piled  on  mountains  with  no  visible  limit 
— the  scenery  of  a  nocturnal  sky  with  its  countless 
host  of  stars  filling  immensity,  all  awaken  emo- 
tions which  we  feel  to  be  closely  allied  to  those 
which  arise  from  the  contemplation  of  the  goodness 
and  attributes  of  Deity.     They  all  exalt  to  solemn 


MUSIC   AND   DEVOTION.  77 

thought  and  heavenly  mushigs.     There  is   infinity 
in  all.  .    •  . 

We  have  seen  that  language  is  one  great  means, 
by  which  the  etherial  principle  is  first  elicited,  and 
then,  by  embodying  the  results  of  the  processes  of 
ideality,  sustains  it  through  successive  stages  of 
improvement,  until  it  expands  itself  in  devotion, 
where  it  may  forever  continue  its  progress  without 
arriving  at  any  limit. 

Observation  is  the  first  facult}^  brought  into  ac- 
tion, and  is  for  a  time  a  sufficient  source  of  mental 
excitement.  The  child  is  pleased  with  every  nov- 
elty; we  may  see  him  sound  his  rattle,  pause,  and 
shake  it  again,  to  assure  himself  that  it  is  the  effect 
of  his  own  volitions,  and  is  thus  continually  exhil- 
erated  by  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  the 
discovery  and  exertion  of  his  own  powers.  His 
store  of  facts  accumulates,  the  circle  around  him 
is  culled,  and  hence  a  necessity  for  classification 
and  invention  (the  two  earliest  stages  of  reasoning 
and  imagining)  is  at  once  produced.  These  ena- 
ble him  to  reduce  his  particulars,  and  to  form  new 
combinations  of  them.  His  mind  expands  until 
these  appear  too  limited,  and  reason  begins  to  form 
universal  propositions  which  are  among  the  earliest 
indications  of  its  infinite  tendency.  These  how- 
ever relating  only  to  things  in  themselves  finite,  fail 
to,  meet  the  wants  of  his  opening  soul.  The  infin- 
ite begins  to  claim  his   attention.     He   fixes  upon 

G 


78  LOVE,     POETRY, 

the  most  expansive  of  terrestrial  objects,  upon 
mind,  but  in  a  form  so  differing  from  his  own,  that 
he  m,ay  conceive  of  it  as  imbued  with  quahties  far 
surpassing  any  which  he  is  conscious  of  possess- 
ing, and  yet  not  feel  himself  comparatively  degrad- 
ed in  his  division  of  the  species.  This,  as  we  have 
before  explained,  forms  the  poetic  stage  of  his  ad- 
vancement. The  finer  feelings  of  his  nature  are 
now  developed  and  expand  themselves  Avith  a  ra- 
pidity proportioned  to  the  vast  range  here  opened 
to  their  exercise,  until  even  this  fails  to  meet  their 
wants.  The  universal  mind  alone  remains;  and 
here  all  the  infinite  tendencies  of  the  soul  now  ex- 
pand themselves;  here  refined  intelligence,  enthusi- 
asm, love,  poetry,  and  devotion,  are  united  in  a 
delightful  harmony — blended  in  one  heaven  of  feel- 
ing. The  religious  sentiment  is  thus  fully  devel- 
oped by  this  union  of  all  the  pure  and  infinite  ten- 
dencies of  the  soul,  which  traversing  the  finite,  find 
no  other  sphere  sufficiently  comprehensive  for  their 
full  developement,  and  nothing  which  harmonizes 
with  their  nature,  but  the  manifestations  and  the 
attributes  of  the  Godhead.  In  this  combination, 
the  etherial  principle  largely  predominates,  and  the 
expansive  tendency  becomes  so  strong,  that  neith- 
er human  force,  nor  human  ingenuity,  has  yet  been 
able  to  control  it.  It  has  been  loaded  with  the 
chains  of  tyranny.  It  has  been  retarded  and  shack- 
led by  creeds.  It  has  been  diverted  from  its 
proper  objects   by  cunningly  devised  forms,  and 


MUSIC   AND   DEVOTION.  79 

gorgeous  and  imposing  ceremonies.  It  has  been 
wickedly  directed  to  inexplicable  mysteries,  and 
wasted  in  the  vain  endeavor  to  elicit  truth  from 
terms  which  contained  no  meaning.  But  in  des- 
pite  of  all  these  obstacles,  it  has  advanced.  It  has 
set  at  defiance  the  power  of  prances,  and  broken 
the  fetters  they  imposed.  It  has  put  at  nought  the 
subtlety  of  priests,  and  with  the  energy  of  enthusi- 
asm penetrated  beyond  the  forms  and  mysteries  by 
which  they  have  sought  to  conceal  truth,  and  pro- 
claimed its  discoveries  from  the  flames  which  sur- 
rounded it  with  glory,  and  shed  lustre  on  its  reve- 
lations. The  only  mode  of  preventing  the  devel- 
opment of  this  expansive  principle,  is  by  destroy- 
ing some  of  its  elements,  or  by  taking  away  some 
of  the  steps  which  are  essential  to  its  progress. 
The  experiment  of  shackling  the  mind  with  pro- 
hibitions, preventing  the  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
and  restraining  the  reasoning  faculties,  has  in  part 
succeeded.  But  the  step  thus  removed,  is  too 
short  to  leave  an  impassible  barrier.  The  mind 
gets  over  the  abhorred  vacuum,  and  its  weakened 
energies  expand  beyond  it.  It  is  by  removing  the 
next,  and  greater  element,  of  our  advancement, 
by  destroying  the  influence  of  woman  on  society, 
and  with  it  the  generous  emotions,  the  exalting  in- 
fluence of  love,  that  the  progress  of  mankind  has 
been  most  effectually  checked.  It  is  where  the 
female  character  is  so  degraded,  that  its  etherial 
influence  is  no  longer  felt,  that  this  sign  of  divinity 


80  LOVE,   POETEY, 

has  failed  to  exhibit  itself — where  from  infancy 
man  has  been  taught  to  look  upon  woman  as  a  soul- 
less toy,  and  woman  to  act  as  if  unconscious  of  a 
higher  destiny.  The  same  effect  has  been  else- 
where produced  by  her  exclusion  from  society, 
and  resorting  to  physical  deformity  of  a  kind  pro- 
ducing sloth  of  body,  dependence,  and  a  conse- 
quent want  of  mental  energy.  Restore  the  soul  of 
woman,  and  the  Mahometans  would  soon  have  a 
better,  and  a  brighter  revelation.  Suffer  the  feet 
of  Chinese  women  to  groAv,  and  the  men  could  not 
long  retain  their  grovelling,  slavish  dispositions, 
nor  the  government,  its  narrow  and  exclusive  policy. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  a  religion  adapted 
to  the  wants  of  the  etherial  nature,  must,  like  it, 
possess  a  susceptibility  to  never  ending  expansion. 
It  must  continually  exhibit  a  higher  and  better  state 
of  existence  than  that  to  which  we  have  arrived; 
and  consequently  the  professors  of  such  a  religion 
will  always  be  manifestly  short  of  its  teachings, 
while  the  professors  of  a  rigid  finite  system  of  eth- 
ics may  fulfil  every  tittle  of  their  law.  The 
Christian  dispensation  certainly  appears  to  possess 
this  wonderful  adaptation.  Its  broad  principles  in- 
clude the  whole  duty  of  man,  and  apply  in  every 
situation  and  in  every  stage  of  his  progression. 
Like  the  source  from  whence  they  emanate,  they 
always  fill  our  views  of  perfection.  It  were  to  be 
wished,  that  the  remarks  which  we  have  just  made. 


MUSIC  AND   DEVOTION.  81 

would  account  for  all  the  acknowledged  defalca- 
cations  of  those  who  profess  to  be  followers  of  its 
great  founder.  How  delightful  would  it  be  to  draw 
at  once  an  illustration  and  a  confirmation  from  sucli 
a  source.  How  encouraging  to  behave,  that  we 
had  improved  and  were  still  improving,  though  the 
horizon  of  perfection  recedes  as  we  advance.  We 
fear,  however,  that  we  must  look  to  other  causes, 
for  at  least  a  portion  of  the  disparity  between  the 
profession  and  practice  of  christians. 

But  the  application  of  this  subject,  and  of  some 
of  the  principles  which  this  investigation  of  it  has 
elicited,  is  so  universal,  that  if  we  were  to  pursue 
it,  we  should  leave  no  portion  of  knowledge,  and 
no  department  of  mind  unexplored.  Leaving  then 
this  vast  field  of  speculation,  we  will  return  to  the 
consideration  of  some  points,  more  immediately 
connected  with  the  two  principal  forms  of  lan< 
g"age.  ,,  •'..•...■  .      •  -.    - 

The  language  of  ideality,  admits  of  an  almost 
universql  adaptation  to  every  grade  of  intellect.  It 
calls  up  emotions  such  as  the  realities  produce.  It 
fits  itself  to  the  comprehension,  and  fills  the  ca- 
pacious as  well  as  the  contracted  mind.  If  the 
difficulties,  which  our  imperfect  modes  o£  commu- 
nicating thought,  here  present,  were  removed,  so 
that  every  mind  might  at  once  be  easily  made  the 
recipient  and  dispenser  of  ideals,  the  disadvantages 
of  inferior  intellect,   considered  in  its  relations  to 


82-      ..  LOVE,   POETRY, 

society,  would  be  in  a  great  measure  obviated. 
The  less  would  then  impart  to  the  greater  a  meas- 
ure which  itself  did  not  possess,  and  thus  all  be 
fitted  for  agreeable  communion  with  each  other. 
Besides,  as  the  gratification  of  imparting  or  receiv- 
ing knowledge,  is  in  well  regulated  minds,  just 
equal,  they  may  be  reciprocally  the  means  of  hap- 
piness to  each  other.  Happiness' will  then  depend 
on  purity,  sensibility,  and  a  consciousness  of  ad- 
vancement. In  fact  all  depends  on  the  first.  It  is 
the  vital  element  of  the  other  two,  without  which  the 
one  would  be  dormant,  and  the  other  blunted  or 
pained.  So  far  as  mere  intellect  is  concerned,  the 
greater  weakness  or  ignorance,  will  be  compensat- 
ed, by  greater  capacity  for  improvement.  The 
wise  and  the  weak  may  both  feel  all  the  delight 
they  are  capable  of  feeling.  Both  may  advance 
with  a  rapidity  proportioned  to  their  views  of  the 
sphere  of  excellence.  Though  the  former  may  have 
arrived  at  what  may  be  termed  a  greater  and  higher 
degree  of  enjoyment,  yet  it  will  also  require,  all  the 
larger  and  more  elevated  resources  which  he  may  be 
able  to  command,  and  where  the  measure  of  hap- 
piness is  full  in  all,  it  will  be  difficult  to  say  who 
enjoys  most.  Nor  is  it  improbable,  that  we  often 
err  in  our  estimate  of  the  effect  of  intellectual  pow- 
er. So  far  as  a  vigorous  exercise  of  it  advances 
us  in  the  scale  of  moral  excellence,  it  undoubted- 
ly adds  to  our  happiness;  while  on  the  other  hand, 
its  perversion,  may  sink  us  still  lower  in  wretched- 
ness.    Moral- purity  is  then  the  grand  element  of 


MUSIC   AND  DEVOTION.  83 

happiness:  moral  degradation  the  great  source  of 
misery.  The  proper  object  of  all,  is  the  improve- 
ment of  their  intellectual  and  moral  nature;  and  a 
consciousness  of  success  in  this  great  end  of  exist- 
ence, is  a  source  of  happiness  v^^hich  is  accessible  to 
all,  and  in  which  all  may  render  mutual  aid  to  each 
♦other.  The  inferior  mind  must  receive  more  than 
it  imparts,  but  in  thus  receiving,  it  still  conduces 
to  the  happiness  of  the  more  gifted,  who  are  ex- 
cited to  exertion,  not  only  by  the  consciousness  of 
individual  improvement,  but  by  the  pleasure  which 
it  pves  them  to  improve  others. 

To  omniscience,  the  pleasure  of  acquiring  knovvl^- 
edge  must  be  denied,  and  its  enjoyments  must  arise 
only  from  a  sense  of  perfection,  and  imparting  to 
finite  minds.  But  even  this  spiritual  perfection,  if 
it  partook  not  of  the  diffusive  nature  of  mind,  if  it 
were  wholly  locked  up  in  itself,  and  could  impart 
nothing  to  other  minds,  would  be  of  a  character 
little  higher  than  a  mere  physical  pei'fection.  It 
is  then  principally  through  the  medium  of  benevo- 
lence, that  much  knowledge  produces  happiness. 
Unconnected  with  this  attribute,  even  omniscience, 
by  depriving  us  of  the  pleasure  of  acquiring  and 
improving,  would  be  a  curse.  Hence  the  desso- 
lation  of  those  spirits,  in  whom  the  consciousness 
of  superior  powers  and  attainments  is  united  to  mis- 
anthropic feelings.  To  this  misfortune,  the  votary 
of  ideality  is  peculiarly  obnoxious.     The  man  of 


84V  '  LOVE,  POETRY,      ^ 

abstraction  goes  little  farther  than  he  can  find  words 
to  sustain  his  thoughts,  but  the  idealist  knows  no 
such  bounds  to  his  ardor;  no  limits  are  imposed 
on  his  fancy.  His  imagination  revels  in  the  infi- 
nite, and  great  as  his  powers  of  expression  may  be, 
he  cannot  always  clothe  his  conceptions  in  that  pal- 
pable form  which  will  make  them  apparent  to  the 
multitude.  He  may  have  dreamed  of  improving 
the  world.  His  fancy  may  have  been  warmed, 
his  heart  may  have  glowed  with  the  purest  en- 
thusiasm for  the  advancement  of  his  race.  His 
whole  soul  may  have  felt  the  delightful  influence  of 
an.  expansive  benevolence;  and  yet  he  may  not 
have  possessed  that  self-forgetting  benevolence 
which  would  lead  him,  without  any  compromise  .of 
his  own  individuality  and  greatness,  to  accommodate 
his  powers  to  the  wants  of  society,  and  employ  a 
portion  of  his  talents,  in  making  his  discoveries 
more  accessible  to  common  minds.  He  may  be 
exalted,  and  yet  not  be  wholly  free  from  that  van- 
ity which  induces  him  to  expect  applause  as  the 
reward  of  his  genius.  He  expected  sympathy,  and 
the  world  views  his  enthusiasm  with  cold  distrust, 
and  refuses  to  bestow  the  praise  which  fed  his  hopes. 
Confident  in  himself,  he  imputes  liis  failure  to  the 
stupidity  of  others.  Disappointment  produces  dis- 
gust, and  the  bosom  which  once  swelled  with  the 
most  generous  and  glowing  emotions,  now  inflated 
with  the  proud  feelings  of  misanthropy,  or  chilled 
with  contempt,  exhibits  only  occasional  manifesta- 
tions of  its  native  excellence.    , 


MUSIC  AND   DEVOTION. INTUITION.  85 

We  feel  the  want  of  the  support  of  other  minds, 
in  proportion  as  our  views  extend  beyond  the  pale 
of  certainty.  In  matters  which  admit  of  rigid  dem- 
onstration, we  care  little  who  differs  from  us;  but 
in  matters  of  opinion,  we  are  pleased  with  the  con- 
firmation of  other  minds,  and  in  subjects  of  mere 
speculation,  are  dehghted  to  find  a  kindred  spirit, 
who  has  traversed  the  same  ground  and  arrived  at 
similar  results,  or  is  at  least  able  to  enter  into  our 
views  and  understand  our  imperfect  descriptions  of 
it.  Hence  of  all  others  the  poet  enjoys  mostfrom 
the  sympathy  of  congenial  minds,  and  suffers  most 
from  the  want  of  it.  Hence,  too,  an  intemperate 
zeal  to  make  converts  to  a  particular  faith,  often 
ai'ises  from  an  innate  doubt  or  latent  conviction, 
that  the  particular  doctrine  in  question  cannot  be 
demonstrated,  and  requires  to  be  supported  by  ex- 
trinsic testimony. 

Even  as  a  means  of  advancing  knowledge,  we 
apprehend  the  comparative  power  of  reasoning,  is 
often  overrated,  or  too  exclusively  relied  upon. — 
We  give  it  credit  for  original  discovery,  when  it 
has  only  attested  the  truth  of  what  ideality  has  sug- 
gested. In  some  sciences  it  undoubtedly  is  all 
availing;  but  in  the  perception  of  moral  truth,  it 
often  falls  short  of  that  intuitive  principle,  that  sen- 
sibility, which  is  most  frequently  found  conspicu- 
ous in  those  destitute  of  great  reasoning  powers.. 
A  lofty  power  of  generalization  may  bear  forward 
the  intellectual  philosopher  even  in  the  field  of  mor- 


86  INTUITION. 

als;  but  how  often  will  his  fine  spun  theories  be 
found  inapplicable  to  the  endless  variety  of  actual 
occurrences.  His  greater  strength  may  enable 
him  to  penetrate  gloomy  forests,  traverse  moun- 
tains, ford  rivers,  and  make  his  way  against  every 
obstruction,  even  beyond  the  usual  limits  of  re- 
search, and  he  may  on  his  return,  exhibit  some  re- 
motely acquired  truth,  yet  it  is  often  as  ill  shapen, 
and  as  little  adapted  to  the  occasions  of  life,  as  the 
fragments  which  the  traveller  brings  from  some  al- 
pine height,  as  mementos  of  his  useless  toil.  Oth- 
ers less  hardy,  and  seemingly  less  adventurous,  are 
endowed  with  a  more  refined  spirituality,  which 
enables  them  to  perceive  the  delicate  relations 
among  ideals.  Their  feelings  assume  a  softer  hue, 
on  which  the  finest  shades  of  truth  are  more  nice- 
ly delineated,  and  possessing,  in  these  feelings,  the 
most  delicate  tests,  they  are  susceptible  to  the 
slight  and  beautiful  indications  of  truth  every  where 
to  be  met  with,  and  from  which  are  deduced  the 
most  important  consequences.  If  the  former,  with 
powers  which  may  fitly  be  compared  to  those  of 
the  telescope  and  lever,  has  measured  the  amaz- 
ing distances,  and  weighed  the  immense  masses  of 
systems  of  worlds,  and  overpowered  us  with  as- 
tonishment at  their  stupendous  results,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  humbler  instruments  have  elicited 
equal  cause  of  wonder.  That  the  microscope  has 
exhibited  to  us  a  world  in  every  atom,  and  intro- 
duced us  to  that  intimacy  with  creation,  which  has 


INTUITION.  87 

ever  led  to  the  most  expanded  views  of  nature  and 
of  nature's  God,  and  that  the  tortion  of  a  single 
fibre  of  a  spider's  web,  has  revealed  that  one  of  the 
laws  by  which  he  rules  his  thunder  and  shakes  the 
universe,  is  precisely  the  same  as;  that  by  which  he 
has  chosen  to  sustain  it.  If  the  first  is  a  type  of 
the  masculine  powers  of  generalization  and  abstrac- 
tion, the  other,  like  the  softer  sex,  'is  the  poetry 
and  the  music  of  our  nature.  Theirs  is  that  refined 
sensibility,  that  ideality  of  character,  that  sponta- 
niety  of  thought  and  feeling,  which  enables  them 
at  once  to  pronounce  what  accords  and  what  dis- 
cords with  moral  truth  and  moral  beauty.  It  can- 
not, in  the  absence  of  the  other  powers,  enable 
them  always  to  appreciate  universal  propositions, 
nor  can  it  protect  them  from  the  commission  of 
great  errors  when  they  attempt  to  express  them- 
selves in  general  terms,  but  it  seldom  allows  them  to 
go  far  wrong  in  a  particular  case.  If  they  are  asked 
for  a  reason,  they  can  generally  answer  only  from 
their  feelings  of  conviction,  the  sources  of  w^hich 
are  to  them  as  inappreciable  and  as  intangible  as 
the  inspirations  of  poetry  or  the  emotions  of  mu- 
sic. I  know,  or  I  feel,  is  with  them  an  argument, 
against  which  it  is  in  vain  for  philosophy  to  direct 
its  reasonings,  or  for  satire  to  point  its  ridicule. — 
They  pretend  not  to  judge  of  the  one,  and  recti- 
tude of  intention  elevates  them  above  the  other. — 
This  confidence  in  their  own  perceptions,  is  to  them 
a  conservative  principle,  which  shields  them  from 


»»  INTUITION. 

many  errors,  which  they  would  inevitably  commit 
if  they  endeavored  to  aj)ply  the  results,  even  of 
those  wiser  than  themselves,  without  understanding 
either  their  speculative  subtlety  or  practical  appli- 
cation— lohich  they  neither  know  nor  feel. 

This  power  of  perceiving  truth  in  the  form  of 
ideals,  is  the  basis  of  the  intuitive  principle,  and 
though  like  all  the  finer  endowments,  possessed  in 
a  high  degree  of  perfection  only  by  the  pure  and 
sensitive,  is  yet  capable  of  extension,  in  some  de- 
gree, to  every  order  of  intelligence.  In  finite 
minds  it  is  of  course  limited.  In  perverted  minds 
it  will  lead  to  mistakes.  Yet,  considering  the  ra- 
pidity of  its  action,  it  is  much  less  surprising  that 
it  should  sometimes  be  wrong,  than  that  it  should 
so  often  be  right.  Even  experience  sometimes 
misleads  us,  and  a  general  rule,  tested  by  the  ob- 
servation of  years,  is  afterwards  found  to  have  its 
exceptions.  As  the  opportunities  for  observation 
are  lessened,  the  chances  of  mistake  are  greatly 
increased,  and  hence  of  all  sources  of  error,  a  too 
rapid  generalization  is  perhaps  the  most  prolific. 
What  then  would  be  the  result,  if  men  who  have 
not  cultivated  this  faculty,  who  are  immersed  in 
business,  and  whose  examination  must  necessarily 
be  hasty,  should  rely  on  this  means  of  judging^ 
where  an  error  in  the  signfication  or  limit  of  a 
term,  would  vitiate  a  conclusion,  on  which  their 
correctness  in  a  thousand  instances  might  depend. 
The    consequences    would    be    incalculablej    and 


IJNTUITION.  89 

hence  the  importance  of  this  intuitive  principle, 
which  to  us,  appears  to  be,  but  a  process  of  ideal- 
ity; a  mode  of  reasoning,  or  of  examining  the  re- 
lations of  things  and  ideas,  without  the  intervention 
of  terms. 

The  mind  glances  through  its  primitive  percept 
tions,  surveys  at  once  motives,  actions,  and  con- 
sequences,  and  forms  its  conclusions,  in  times  in- 
conceivably less,  than  it  would  require  to  substitute 
the  terms,  test  the  precision  of  their  limits,  exam- 
ine their  relations,  and  arrange  them  into  syllogisms. 

From  the  quickness  of  the^  operation,  and  the 
absence  of  terms,  it  can  give  no  account  of  its 
processes.  How  admirably  does  this  facility  in 
examining  particular  cases  compensate  for  the 
want  of  generalization.  It  is  evidently  a  mode  of 
mind  nearly  allied  to  that  by  which  we  have  sup- 
posed spirits  to  perceive  truth,  but  often  desecrat- 
ed by  its  application  to  inferior  objects.  It  how- 
ever sheds  hght  on  some  portions  of  our  specula- 
tion, and  strengthens  some  points  of  our  argument, 
and  particularly  as  this  principle  is  developed  with 
a  clearness  and  extent  proportioned  to  spiritual 
and  moral  excellence. 

When  this  power  of  perceiving  is  sufficiently 
clear  and  accurate,  it  enables  its  possessor  to  lay 
aside  general  rules,  and  to  judge,  or  act  in  each 
particular  case,  from  his  immediate  perceptions 
and  impulses,  giving  to  his  mind  a  reach  of  thought, 

H 


90  GENIUS. 

and  spontaniety  of  action,  which  we  generally  de- 
nominate genius.  With  a  poetic  sense  he  perceives 
the  relations  of  ideas,  and  those  little  delicacies  of 
propriety  and  association,  which  words  can  but 
feebly  portray.  He  is  thus  enabled  to  act  with  a 
discerning  judgment  and  taste  in  matters  in  which 
language  affords  him  no  aid,  either  in  the  way  of 
general  rules,  or  as  a  means  of  investigation. 
Hence  it  is  that  genius  acts  independently  of  gene- 
ral rules.  It  occupies  a  sphere  too  far  advanced 
for  their  application,  and  in  which  the  processes  of 
ideality, are  alone  availing. 

The  man  of  abstaction  often  acquires  a  power 
nearly  resembling  this,  and  no  doubt  frequently 
confounded  with  it.  In  some  cases  his  terms  are 
already  prepai'ed,  and  habit  enables  him  to  substi- 
tute them,  and  to  perceive  their  relations,  with 
such  facility,  that  the  processes  make  no  impress- 
ion on  his  memory,  and  the  result  appears  to  be 
intuition. 


REASONING    AND  PERCEIVING.  91 


In  the  processes  of  ideally,  the  mind  deals  with 
the  actual  existences  of  the  material  or  intellectual 
world,  which  present  them.selves  with  all  their  nat- 
ural and  wide  spread  associations.  In  verbal  rea- 
soning it  deals  with  words,  and  the  limited,  arbi- 
trary associations,  which  form  their  definitions. — 
The  use  of  terms  in  the  one  case,  has  the  same  ef- 
fect in  calling  up  these  artificial  associations,  as  the 
sight  or  recollection  of  an  actual  existence  has  in 
calling  up  whatever  we  have  associated  with  it. — 
The  mode  of  mind  is  in  both  cases  very  similar, 
and  if  the  former  may  be  said  to  be  a  mode  of  rea- 
soning without  terms,  the  latter  may  with  equal  pro- 
priety be  defined  a  process  ol  ideality  with  them. 
We  apprehend  that  this  similarity  has  had  some 
influence  in  obscuring  the  relations  of  poetry  and 
prose.  It  makes  the  apparent  difference  in  the 
processes  less  than  it  really  is,  and  it  seems  alto- 
gether disproportioned  to  the  results.  But  it  must 
be  remembered  that  although  these  modes  of  mind 
are  in  this  one  respect  similar,  its  action  is  very  mucli 
modified  by  the  nature  ofthe  materials  which  it  acts 
upon.  Ideals  expand,  terms  narrow  the  path  in 
which  it  advances.  Ideality  is  co-extensive  with 
thought  and  sentiment;  abstraction  cannot  extend 
beyond  the  contracted  limits  to  which  a  precise 
language  is  applied.  Here  we  perceive  a  vast  dif- 
ference, and  we  have  endeavored  to  preserve  the 


92  REASONING  AND   PERCEIVING. 

distinction,  by  applpng  the  term  reasoning,  when 
used  without  explanation,  only  to  the  forms  of  ab- 
straction. But  if  in  ax2cordance  with  common  cus- 
tom and  learned  authority,  we  define  this  term  to 
imply  that  process  of  the  mind  by  which  it  deduces 
consequences  justly  from  premises,  or  by  which  it 
arrives  at  th-e  unknown  by  combinations  of  the 
known,  it  embraces  both  of  these  modes.  The 
one  is  the  reasoning  of  the  nominalists,  the  other  is 
the  nearest  possible  approach  to  that  of  the  realists. 
The  nominalists  compress  a  subject  until  the  mind 
can  survey  it  at  once.  Their  definitions  are  often 
mere  hypothesis,  having  no  necessary  connexion 
with  reality,  but  so  framed  as  to  involve  certain 
consequences,  and  their  reasoning  is  but  an  arrange- 
ment of  terms,  more  clearly  showing  that  these  con- 
sequences are  thus  involved.  This  is  emphatically 
the  case  in  mathematics,  the  most  perfect  specimen 
of  nominal  or  verbal  reasoning.  In  this  science 
the  same  definition  always  attaches  to  the  same 
word,  but  in  connexion  with  these  words,  and  more 
especially  in  the  application  of  the  algebraic  modes, 
we  us€  letters  of  the  alphabet,  or  any  other  marks 
which  have  no  particular  meaning,  but  in  each  in- 
dividual case  are  supposed  to  represent  such  quan- 
tity or  property  as  renders  them  most  fit  for  the 
purposes  for  which  they  are  immediately  wanted. 
They  are  signs  to  which  any  hypothesis  may  be 
attached;  terms,  whose  significations  are  made  to 
vary  according  to   circumstances.     The  associa-^ 


TEASONINtt  AND  PERCEIVING.  9S 

tions  with  them,  or  their  definitions  for  the  time 
being,  are  dependant  on  our  will.  We  make  them 
expressly  for  the  ocasion,  we  limit  and  fit  them  as 
we  choose,  and  hence  are  in  little  danger  of  mis- 
applying them.  By  this  artific-e,  this  mode  of  rea- 
soning from  definitions  is  extended  to  minuter  di- 
visions of  cases,  which,  if  terms  with  unvaring  de- 
finitions were  used,  would  require  more  words  or 
signs  of  some  kind,  than  now  exist  in  our  whole 
language. 

Before  we  can  apply  the  results  of  this  or  any 
other  nominal  reasoning  to  practice,  we  must  be 
certain  that  we  have  a  case  conformable  to  the  hy- 
pothesis.    In  the  application  of  mathematics,    we 
are  often  enabled  to  do  this.      In  the  measurement 
of  matter,  we  can  divide  it  into  shapes  nearly  ap- 
proaching to  those  of  which  it  treats,  and  the  mo- 
tions of  the  heavenly  bodies  are,  with  small  varia- 
tions, in  curves  whose  properties  are  accurately  ex-, 
pressed  in  its  definitions.      In  point   of  accuracy, 
mathematical  reasoning  has  an  advantage  in  dealing 
with  nothing  but  quantity.     However  different  the 
shapes  which  it  compares,  they  may  still   be  con- 
sidered as  in  this  respect  homogenious;  they   are 
all  quantity,  and  to  the  mind  of  the  mathematician, 
nothing  but  quantity.   Every  form  of  it  is  measured 
by  a  portion  of  itself,   a  facility  which  we  cannot 
have  with  subjects  which  are  in  their  nature  indi^ 
visible,  as  love,  virtue,  honor,  happiness,  &c.    Still 
this,  in  comrrion  with  all   nominal  reasoning,  goes 


94  REASONING  AND   PERCEIVING. 

no  farther  than  to  meet  specific  cases.  The  gen- 
eral rules  elicited,  may  assist  the  judgment,  and 
enter  into  the  composition  of  that  common  sense 
opinion,  which  is  within  the  province  of  ideality. 
The  mathematician,  for  instance,  may  calculate  the 
flow  of  water  in  channels  supposed  to  be  rectangu- 
lar, circular,  or  of  any  other  giveji  form,  and  tell  us 
the  effect  of  the  increase  or  decrease  of  quantity,  or 
of  inclination,  &c.;  but  in  the  application  of  the 
formula,  deduced  from  each  hypothesis  to  actual 
existences,  to  rivers  m  their  unequal  winding  chan- 
nels, such  great  and  various  allowances  must  be 
made,  that  at  best  they  make  but. a  portion  of  the 
circumstances  which  go  to  form  our  opinions. — 
Considering  this  difficulty  of  making  the  definitions, 
or  the  hypothesis  on  which  verbal  reasoning  always 
depends  conformable  to  actual  existences,  and  that' 
the  process  of  ideality  is  always  ready  based  on 
these  actual  existences,  it  is  at  least  conceivable 
that  the  difficulties  and  chances  of  error  in  the  adap- 
tation of  the  former,  may  be  greater  than  those 
which  arise  from-  tlie  vague  and  indefinite  expan- 
sion of  the  ideals  used  in  the  latter  mode;  and  that 
this  may  be  preferable  in  many  of  the  practical  con- 
cerns of  life,  in  which  the  circumstances  and  their 
combinations  are  so  various  that  no  general  rules 
can  embrace  them  all.  No  mode  of  applying  to 
this  variety  variable  terms,  like  those  which  give 
algebra  such  a  difllised  and  universal  application  to 
questions  of  quantity,  has  yet  been  devised.     It  is 


REASONING  AND  PERCEIVING.  95 

conceivable  that  something  of  this  kind  might  be 
done  in  other  departments  of  thought,  but  when  we 
reflect,  that  in  applying  it  to  the  every  day  con- 
cerns of  life,  the  principal  object  would  be,  to  es- 
timate the  effect  of  flowing  events  on  our  happi-  ' 
ness,  and  then  consider  the  endless  variety,  the  in- 
finite combination  and  undejinable  nature  of  these 
circumstances,  and  the  various  effects  of  the  same 
causes  on  different  individuals,  the  obstacles  ap- 
pear insurmountable.  An  arrangement  of  terms, 
which  would  meet  all  the  cases  which  arise,  must 
be  as  subtle  and  diffusive  as  spirit,  and  its  distinc- 
tions be  as  nicely  shaded  as  those  of  thought  itself. 
We  apprehend  that  mind  alone  possesses  the  pli- 
ancy which  admits  of  this  universal  adaptation,  and 
that  it  must  lose  its  expansive  energy  before  its 
primitive  perceptions  will  be  thus  overtaken  by 
terms . 

But  to  show  how  far  these  latter  now  fall  short  of 
the  wants  of  our  being,  we  will  take  a  case  of  far 
narrower  limits. 

The  combinations  on  the  chess-board,  though 
vast  in  number,  are  finite.  Yet  how  vain  would 
be  the  attempt  to  give  rules  for  every  case  which 
could  possibly  arise.  It  is  conceivable,  it  is  even 
obviously  possible  that  it  might  be  done,  but  when 
accomplished,  a  life  would  be  too  short  to  learn  it. 
If  therefore  we  cannot,  by  means  of  general  rules, 
learn  to  play  this  game,  which  has  only  finite  com- 
binations, what  can  we  expect  from  them  when  ap- 


96  REASONING  AND  PERCEIVING. 

plied  to  the  more  complicated  game  of  life,  in 
which  the  combinations  are  infinite,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances often  as  little  within  our  control,  and 
as  unexpected  as  the  moves  made  by  an  antagonist 
on  the  chess  board.  We  apprehend  that  in  both 
cases,  the  only  proper  way  is,  after  deriving  what 
assistance  Ave  readily  can  from  general  rules,  to 
look  at  the  actual  existences,  to  combine  and  ex- 
amine the  particular  circumstances  as  they  arise,  to 
suppose  a  particular  course  adopted,  and  see  what 
consequences  will  probably  follow,  and  by  this  pro- 
cess of  ideality  determine  how  to  move  or  act. 
This  mode  seems  to  have  been  preferred  by  a 
large  portion  of  mankind,  especially  in  the  great 
questions  connected  with  morals  and  religion.  It 
is  not  always  as  certain  as  if  more  time  were  de- 
voted, and  every  conceivable  case  examined  in  all 
its  bearings  and  tendencies  with  the  aid  of  terms, 
but  it  is  the  only  one  which  admits  of- practical  ap- 
plication. It  enables  us  promptly  to  apply  that 
great  moral  law,  ''to  do  unto  others  as  we  would 
that  they  in  similar  circumstances  should  do  to  us," 
for  the  means  by  which  we  ascertain  what  we 
would  that  they  should  do  to  us  is  evidently  a 
process  of  ideality.  It  is  the  only  way  in  which 
a  large  portion  of  mankind  are  able  to  examine  and 
to  determine  many  matters  in  which  they  are  great- 
ly interested.  We  may  often  observe  the  failure 
of  good  men  in  stating  general  rules,  whose  con- 
sciences would   leave  them    at  no  loss  as  to  how 


REASONING    AGD   PERCEIVING.  97 

they  should  act,  in  any  of  the  particular  cases  aris- 
ing under  them.  All  have  not  the  time,  the  skill, 
nor  can  all  spare  from  other  proper  pursuits,  the  in- 
tellectual capital  necessary  to  perfect  the  verbal 
machinery  required,  to  examine  high  and  important 
questions;  and  the  attempt  unsuccessful,  or  not 
persevered  in,  would  only  entangle  and  perplex 
tliem.  It  is  more  prudent  and  safe  for  such,  to  do 
vvhat  they  require  for  their  own  home  use,  in  the 
simple,  natural  way,  and  leave  to  philosophers  the 
business  of  supplying  the  world,  by  the  operation 
of  complicated  machinery  which  they  better  un- 
derstand. We  cheerfully  commit  to  them  the 
task  of  fitting  and  regulating  the  action  of  that  en- 
ginery which  is  to  convert  the  pliable  materials  of 
ideality  into  fixed  and  rigid  maxims,  meeting  ev- 
ery case  of  morality,  and  answering  all  the  purpos- 
es of  religion,  and  by  which  its  advocates  hope  to 
give  stability  .to  the  changing  forms  and  hues  by 
which  religious  observances  and  opinions  are 
adapted  to  the  various  conditions  of  society,  and  to 
reconcile  their  endless  variety  in  one  beautilul, 
harmonious  system.  They  have  not  however,  as 
yet  been  able  to  exclude  numerous  errors  and  dis- 
crepances, and  however  rapidly  they  may  perfect 
it,  we  apprehend  that  the  equally  improving 
optics  of  ideahty,  will  continue  to  detect  such  im- 
perfections. Still  their  persevering  industry  has 
accomplished  much,  and  we  regard  the  deficiencies 
alluded  to,  not  as  a  fault  of  theirs,  or  of  the  means 


98  ANGIENT    POETRY. 

which  they  employ,  but  as  necessarily  connected 
with  all  subjects  which  admit  of  no  limitation.  Mo- 
rality and  reUgion, — the  relations  of  man  with  his 
fellow  beings  and  with  his  God,  are  of  this  infinite 
kind.  They  cannot  therefore  be  fully  embraced 
by  terms,  and  ideahty  will  always  perceive  more  of 
them,  than  abstraction  has  reduced  to  order.  This 
is  the  natural  progress  of  loiowledge.  The  vague 
and  conjectural,  becomes  distinct  and  certain. 
Demonstration  follows  on  the  rear*  of  fancy.  Yet 
we  do  not  apprehend  that  the  progress  of  truth  has 
any  influence  in  circumscribing  her  flight.  Philos- 
ophy may  condense  the  mists  in  which  ideality 
shapes  her  fairest  forms,  and  with  them  may  van- 
ish the  gorgeous  rainbow,  and  the  prismatic  splen- 
dour, with  which  this  poetic  power  had  adorned 
them.  These  beautiful  effects  of  uncombined, 
confused,  and  perverted  light,  may  no  longer  glit- 
ter in  the  eye  of  the  poet,  but  the  mist,  condens- 
ing into  the  dew  of  science,  has  refreshed  his  im- 
agination, and  opened  to  his  vision  more  distant 
prospects.  With  fresh  hopes  and  invigorated  pow- 
ers, he  takes  a  loftier  flight,  and  in  the  indistinct 
perceptions,  which  still  form  the  boundary  of  his 
extended  vision,  shapes  new  and  more  perfect 
beauty,  and  finds  sublimer  and  more  exciting  mys- 
tery. 

Poetry  is  relatively  farther  advanced  in  an  imcul- 
tivated  state  of  society,  or  rather  when  science  is 
just  dawning  on  the  benighted  age,  because  then 


ANCIENT    POETRY.  99 

the  ai'tificial  language  of  abstraction  is  very  imper- 
fect, and  thought  is  of  necessity  pursued  by  means 
of  processes  of  ideaUty,  and  expressed  in  the  lan- 
guage adapted  to  that  mode.  The  genius  of  a  peo- 
ple thus  circumstanced,  is  forced  into  this  channel, 
and  poetic  forms  of  thought  and  expression  become 
habitual.  The  resources  of  the  poet  are  then  more 
various,  and  more  accessable,  for  all  the  great 
truths  are  beyond  the  hmits  to  which  philosophical 
language  has  advanced.  They  are  in  the  vague 
poetic  state,  and  furnish  ample  materials  for  ideal- 
ity. These  are  first  presented  in  their  most  strik- 
ing aspect,  and  associated  in  a  manner,  which  how- 
ever beautiful,  would  not  be  likely  to  occur  to 
those  who  discerned  their  real  connexions,  but 
which  being  always  conceivable,  appear  as  distinct 
creations  of  the  poet.  Our  admiration  of  the  geni- 
us which  conceived  them,  increases,  as  the  ad- 
vancement of  truth  shows  them  to  have  little  or  no 
foundation  in  reality,  and  he  who  supposed  himself 
only  narrating  his  discoveries,  obtains  praise  for 
inventing  or  creating.  The  language  in  which  the 
early  poets  have  thus  expressed  themselves,  be- 
coming identified  with  indistinct  perceptions,  or 
erroneous  and  delusive  associations,  is  rendered  un- 
fit for  philosophical  accuracy,  and  hence  it  is  al- 
lowed to  retain  its  poetic  expansibihty. 

From  this  view  of  the  subject  it  appears  that  the 
sphere  of  poetry  must  be  continually  changing,  that 
in  an  ignorant  state  of  society  it  admits  of  a  larger 


loo  ANCIENT    POETRY. 

infusion  of  narrative  and  physical  knowledge,  and 
advances  on  the  verge  of  literature,  to  the  higher 
departments  of  moral  and  intellectual  science,  which 
are  now  its  principal  elements.  If  ever  the  mys- 
teries of  our  nature,  and  the  relations  of  society, 
should  be  fully  developed,  and  accurately  expressed 
in  words,  it  w^ould  be  driven  from  these  to  yet 
higher  objects.  The  mysteries  ot  the  infinite  mind 
in  its  various  manifestations,  and  the  numberless  re- 
lations by  which,  through  eternity,  it  is  united  to 
the  finite,  would  then  become  more  exclusively  its 
appropriate  themes. 

As  philosophy  is  extended,  poetry,  always  oc- 
cupying the  circle  beyond  it,  recedes,  and  fewer 
will  get  through  the  mass  of  science  which  inter- 
venes. This  is  particularly  the  case  when  a  sud- 
den impulse  is  given  to  abstract  kno\^ledge.  The 
progress  of  the  poet  is  then  impeded,  and  his  vis- 
ion obstructed  by  the  unarranged  and  partially 
condensed  materials  with  which  philosophy  is  en- 
gaged. The  atmosphere  is  not  then  sufficiently 
clear  for  distant  observation,  and  to  make  what  is 
already  within  the-  sphere  of  concrete  science  the 
subject  of  poetry,  would  be  to  retrograde.  It 
would  be  using  a  telescope  to  look  at  objects  near 
to  us.  To  verify  its  facts,  is  an  exercise  of  inge- 
nuity very  similar  to  that  of  arranging  the  mathe- 
matical shapes  of  a  Chinese  puzzle,  into  given  pre- 
scribed figures. 


NOVELS.       .  101 

The  novels  of  the  present  age  are  narration,  with 
a  large  infusion  of  ideahty,  and  the  favor  with  which 
they  have  been  received  by  the  pubhc,  is  a  cheer- 
ing evidence  that  this  principle  has  not  been  eradi- 
cated by  the  encroachments  of' physical  science, 
and  that  it  is  not  confined  to  th%  few  who  have 
successfully  cultivated  it,  but  is  still  diffused  through 
all  classes  of  society.  We  give  them  credit  for 
something  more  than  the  evidences  of  these  facts. 
We  regard  them  as  having  conduced  to  it;  as  hav- 
ing at  least  aided  to  keep  alive  the  germs  of  this 
high  but  neglected  endowment.  In  these  Works 
of  fiction,  it  has  assumed  the  guise  of  reality  and 
mingled  with  the  utilitarian  topics,  which  now  al- 
most exclusively  occupy  the  public  mind.  In  the 
productions  of  Scott,  it  portrays  character,  senti- 
ments, and  affections,  as  they  exhibit  themselves 
in  society,  and  in  those  of  Bulwer,  it  is  advancing 
to  more  remote  portions  of  metaphysics. 

Repressed  by  the  force  of  circumstances,  it  still 
infuses  its  spirit  into  the  material  science  of  the 
day,  and  its  animating  beams,  though  shorn  of  their 
brilliancy,  still  light  and  cheer  the  path  of  improve- 
ment. 

I 


102  INSPIRATION. 


How  far  cultivation  and  moral  purity  may  in- 
crease the  clearness  of  perception,  and  give  at  once 
extension  and  certainty  to  the  processes  of  ideali- 
ty, we  pretend  nSt  to  know.  There  are  those  who, 
habituating  themselves  to  silent  meditation,  and 
carefully  avoiding  the  usual  modes  of  reasoning, 
sometimes  arrive  at  results  so  suddenly,  so  vividly 
portrayed,  and  by  means  so  difficult  to  trace,  that 
they  appear  to  flash  upon  them  from  some  unseen 
source,  and  they  ascribe  them  to  inspiration.  We 
are  not  disposed  to  differ  with  them  about  this 
term  as  thus  applied,  though  we  may  deem  it  more 
nearly  allied  to  poetic  inspiration  than  they  would 
be  willing  to  admit.  To  us  it  seems  to  be  an  in- 
ference, or  impression,  derived  immediately  from 
the  perceptions  or  ideals  in  the  mind — a  process 
of  ideality,  quickened  by  a  pure  enthusiasm  and 
dignified  by  its  objects.  Being  good,  we  agree 
with  them  that  it  comes  from  the  source  of  all  good. 
We  agree  with  them  that  it  is  the  reward  of  pa- 
tient seeking  and  holiness  of  thought;  but  whether 
as  a  natural  consequence  of  this  hallowed  medita- 
tion, or  as  an  immediate  and  special  act  of  divine 
favor,  is  a  question  which  is  involved  in  the  more 
general,  and  very  interesting  inquiry,  whether  the 
creation  is  governed  by  natural,  self-sustaining  laws, 
or  by  the  immediate  volitions  of  Deity,  or  partly 
by  both.      We  agree  with  them  that  it  is  in  every 


w**- 


INSPIRATION.  103 

sense  of  the  word  the  quickening  principle,  that  it 
is  superior  to  all  other  human  endowments,  but  we 
would  still  pronounce  it  human;  or  with  them,  ad- 
mitting it  to  be  divine,  we  would  call  it  the  divinity 
of  human  nature.  It  is  literally,- as  they  express  it, 
a  working  of  the  spirit,  but  it  seems  to  be  a  com- 
mon opinion  with  them,  that  this  spirit  is  not  an 
attribute  of  themselves,  but  a  distinct,  independent 
power,  over  which  they  can  exert  no  control,  but 
must  be  mere  passive  recipients  of  its  manifesta- 
tions. The  obvious  tendency  of  such  a  belief  is 
to  prevent  exertion,  and  their  faith  in  it  is  proba- 
bly strengthened  by  the  greater  ease  with  which 
truth  is  perceived  in  this  mode  than  it  can  be  at- 
tained by  reasoning.  The  difference  is  analogous 
to  that  of  observing  the  equality  of  two  figures 
when  one  is  applied  directly  to  the  other,  or  deter- 
mining the  same  fact  by  means  of  a  geometrical 
demonstration.  In  the  first  case  we  ascertain  it 
without  any  conscious  effort — we  perceive  it,  as 
we  perceive  intuitive  truth  when  we  compare  our 
perceptions  immediately  with  each  other.  In  the 
latter,  it  requires  labor  and  attention  to  trace  the 
equality  of  figures,  as  it  does  the  agreement  of  ideas 
through  the  medium  of  terir^s.  The  error  to  which 
we  have  alluded,  is  however  principally  in  terms. 
Experience  teaches  the  disciples  of  this  doctrine 
that  some  efforts  on  their  part,  and  some  mental 
exercises  of  their  own  are  necessary  antecedants  to 
i!)is  working  of  the  spirit,  and  the  practical  evil  is 


104  INSPIRATION. 

thus,  in  a  great  measure,  avoided.  In  these  medi- 
tations, they  arrive  at  higher  views  of  their  destiny 
— they  more  clearly  discern  the  means  of  attaining 
it,  and  however  deficient  their  views  may  still  be, 
or  however  short  of  what  more  gifted  spirits  may 
have  entertained,  it  is  still  to  them  a  revelation. — 
The  exalted  pleasure  they  derive  from  these  sud- 
den manifestations,  and  a  vivid  perception  of  their 
real  or  supposed  importance,  united  to  a  philan- 
thropic and  generous  enthusiasm  to  extend  the 
knowledge  of  these  sources  of  happiness,  imparts 
to  them  an  unwonted  fervor  and  eloquence  appa- 
rently supernatural. 

Such  we  apprehend  is  the  rationale  of  Quaker- 
ism. The  practical  application  and  improvement 
of  the  elastic  principles  of  ideality,  with  its  expan- 
sive power  unshackled  by  creeds,  has  enabled  an 
unlearned  people  to  make  great  advances  in  spirit- 
ual truth,  while  their  Ignorance  of  this  grand  ele- 
ment of  their  own  system  will  account  for  some 
extravagances  or  errors  into  which  it  has  led  them. 
Not  recognising  this  sublime  agent  of  discovery 
and  advancement  as  an  attribute  of  humanity,  they 
have  ascribed  its  effects  to  the  immediate  and  spe- 
cial interposition  of  the  Deity,  and  thus  overlooked 
this  secondary  means  of  his  manifestation.  A  pre- 
dominance of  this  principle,  and  an  habitual  reli- 
ance upon  it,  has  had  its  influence  upon  the  socie- 
ty to  which  we  have  alluded,  and  given  them  a 
character  for  caution  and  prudence  in  the  manage- 


INSPIRATION.  105 

raent  of  their  secular  concerns,  which  probably  has 
in  part  arisen  from  its  protecting  them  from  engag- 
ing in  those  visionary  schemes  which  are  based  on 
fine  spun  reasonings,  and  which"  from  the   impor- 
tance which   the   absence  of   otlier  sources  of  ag- 
grandizement has   led  them    to   attach  to  wealth, 
they  would  be  peculiarly  obnoxious  to,  were  it  not 
for  this  countervailing  tendency  to  distrust  results 
which    arise    only  from  a  skilful    arrangement    of 
terms,  which  they  frequently  call   "  vain  reason- 
ing."    It   is  not  unworthy  of  remark,  that  these 
s.ame  people  believe,  that  by  attention  to  these  in- 
ward teachings,  they   arrive  at  a  higher   degree  of 
purity  and  refinement  than  can  otherwise  be  attain- 
ed, and  that  when  thus  far   advanced,  they  can,  in 
some  favored  moments,  communicate  one  with  an- 
other without  any  external  means.     We  must  con- 
fess, that  although  this  is  precisely  what  we  have 
supposed  to  be  an  effect  of  spiritual  advancement, 
yet  we  can  no  more  conceive  that  such  an  effect, 
without  a  greater  change  in  the   condition  of  man 
than  is  apparent  in  this  world,  is  embraced  in  that 
hypothesis,  than  we  can  conceive  intuition,  as  we 
have   just  explained    it,  to  extend  to    those  long 
arithmetical  calculations  made  by  persons  who  are 
apparently  deficient  in  every  other  faculty.     The 
great  interest   felt   on  such  occasions,  may  direct 
the  attention  with  corresponding  intensity,    and  all 
the  circumstances  in  which  the  one  is  placed  may 
he  realized  by  the  other  in  the  form  of  ideals,  an4 


106  INSPIRATION. 

produce  in  him  similar  emotions.     It  is  then  only 
like  causes  producing  like  effects.     It  is  a  state  of 
highly  excited  sympathy  in  which  they  enter  into 
the  circumstances    and  participate  in  the  feelings  of 
each  othpr.     In  the  exact  sciences,  a  problem  be- 
ing mentally  investigated  by  a  number  of  individ- 
uals understanding  the  subject,  and  then  expressed 
in  the  proper  terms,  would  in  most  instances  be 
recognized  by  each  of  them   as  his   own  train  of 
reasoning;  and  on  many  questions  which   admit  of 
greater  diversity,    there   will  be  a  few  channels  of 
thought,  some  one  of  which,  those  who  think  of 
the   subject   will  pursue,   and  thus  produce  many 
coincidences  of   argument  and  conclusion.      So  in 
the  instances  we   are  considering,   the  circumstan- 
ces being  known  and  pondered  upon,  produce  sim- 
ilar states  of  mind.     It  is  true,  that  it  is  more  diffi- 
cult to  say  precisely  what  feelings  will  be  produc- 
ed by  known   circumstances.     There  is  a   greater 
latitude,  and  the  coincidences  will,  from  this  cause, 
be  less  frequent.     As  an   offset  to  this,  the  terms 
in  which  these  excited  feelings  are  expressed,  have 
an  almost  equal  latitude.     Added  to  this,  the  feel- 
ings themselves  may  be  of  a  very  vague  and  indis- 
tinct   character,    and    being    expressed    in    terms 
equally  vague,  each   may  suppose   his  own  ideals 
properly  represented  by  the  same  form  of  words, 
though  in  reality  varying  in  no  small  degree  from 
each  other. 

We  will  here  remark  an  evil,  not  as  attaching  to 


INSPIRATION.  107 

this  sect  in  particular,  but  as  arising  among  secta- 
rians generally",  from  the  exclusion  or  neglect  of 
verbal  reasoning.  The  want  of  the  habit  of  think- 
ing abstractly,  leads  them  to  associate  what  they 
deem  wrong  principles,  so  closely  with  sects  and 
individuals,  that  their  abhorrence  of  the  erroneous 
doctrines,  becomes  rancour  towards  those  who 
profess  them.  But  to  return.  We  have  followed 
the  views  of  the  society  of  friends  farther  than  we 
at  first  intended,  at  once  to  point  out  what  we  be- 
lieve to  be  errors  arising  from  the  exclusion  of  ver- 
bal reasoning,  and  to  exhibit  the  effect  of  a  steady 
disciplined  attention  to  one  of  the  forms  of  ideality. 

They  probably  prefer  to  be  considered  the  pe- 
culiarly favored  of  heaven,  and  the  recipients  of 
its  immediate  dispensations;  but  we  deem  it  no 
less  honorable  among  men,  nor  less  equivocal  evi- 
dence of  acceptance  with  God,  that  they  have  so 
cultivated  this  exalted  principle,  that  its  manifesta- 
tions, true  to  its  divine  character,  appear  to  them 
of  celestial  origin,  and  exert  a  celestial   influence. 

As  a  means  of  human  advancement  we  are  far 
from  considering  this  high  endowment  as  exclu- 
sively attaching  to  any  sect.  It  is  the  mode  which 
must  be  more  or  less  resorted  to  by  all  patient  en- 
quirers after  truth.  It  is  the  poetic  temperament, — 
the  divellant  properties  of  the  soul,  which  will  ex- 
tend themselves  into  the  hidden  infinite,  but  par- 
tially subdued,  and  made  subservient  to  the  high 
purposes  of  human  advancement.     It  exhibits  itself 


108  INSPIRATION. 

not  in  lightning  gleams,  but  curbed  in  its  erratic 
course,  and  softened  and  diffused  over  the  space 
which  lies  between  that  which  is  tangible  and  that 
which  is  inscrutable,  reveahng  in  its  gloaming  Hght, 
truths  over  which  abstraction  has  not  yet  extended 
the  pale  of  demonstration.  It  requires  great  care 
and  application  to  keep  the  mind  in  that  state 
which  admits  of  intuitive  certainty,  for  as  we  are 
not  fully  aware  of  the  elements  which  go  to  form 
our  conclusions,  we  have  no  opportunity  of  cor- 
recting them  by  an  analytic  examination,  and  a 
single  error  may  warp  and  vitiate  all  our  views  of 
a  subject.  Indeed,  one  of  the  greatest  defects  of 
those  who  rely  on  this  principle  to  the  exclusion  of 
reasoning,  is  that  they  cannot  distinguish  its  results 
from  other  impressions  unconsciously  received, 
and  hence  they  are  as  tenacious  of  traditional  er- 
ror as  of  revealed  truth.  This  makes  it  necessary 
frequently  to  apply  the  test  of  reasoning;  to  ex- 
press the  ideals  or  primitive  perceptions  of  the 
mind  in  terms,  and  examine  their  relations.  This 
would  be  productive  of  the  more  happy  results,  as 
the  votaries  of  abstraction  are  obnoxious  to  errors 
of  an  opposite  character.  They  are  m.ore  liable  to 
be  led  astray  by  the  bewitchments  of  prohibition, 
and  the  plausibility  which  their  reasoning  gives  to 
new  opinions  insufficiently  investigated.  They 
moreover,  of  necessity,  acquire  a  habit  of  regard- 
ing only  the  signs,  and  however  clearly  and  cer- 
tainly they  may  arrive  at    conclusions,  forget  that 


INSPIRATION.  109 

these  conclusions  are  founded  on  hypothesis,  in- 
volved in  the  definitions  of  their  terms.  They  do 
not  see  things  vividly,  but  perceive  only  the  signs 
which  they  have  substituted  for  them,  and  hence 
their  power  of  examining  actual  existences  is  les- 
sened. By  degrees,  the  abstractions  obtain  in 
their  minds  the  place  of  realities,  so  far,  that  in 
some  instances,  they  become  the  ultimate  objects 
of  thought,  and  the  signs  are  invested  with  all  the 
attributes  which  belong  to  that  which  they  signify. 
The  expression  natural  laivs,  or  lau'S  of  stature.,  is 
a  remarkable  instance  in  point,  and  some  philoso- 
phers have  not  only  fallen  into  the  absurdity  of 
giving  to  these  mere  words  a  power  over  matter, 
but  in  their  zeal  to  get  rid  of  a  universal  superin- 
tending intelligence,  have  adopted  an  hypothesis, 
which  of  necessity,  presumes  that  matter  is  univer- 
sally intelligent.  For  it  is  obvious  that  govern- 
ment immediately  by  law,  presupposes  a  knowledge 
of  the  law;  and  of  course,  intelligence,  on  the  part 
of  the  governed. 

The  opposite  evils  of  which  we  have  spoken  as 
arising  from  the  exclusive  use  of  ideality  and  ab- 
straction, are  neutralized  bv  a  combination  of  these 
poetic  and  prosaic  modes  of  investigation.  This 
combination  would  naturally  occur,  and  the  lan- 
guage of  precision  would  be  continually  adapted 
and  applied  to  the  suggestions  of  intuition,  w^ere  it 
not  that  on  some  important  subjects,  a  sort  of 
odium,  a  vague   suspicion,  has  attached   to  those 


110  MYSTERIES. 

who  attempted  to  apply  this  severe  but  essential 
means  of  correction.  They  are  pragmatical  with 
our  household  deities.  They  interfere  with  estab- 
lished prejudices,  and  make  us  distrust  early  im- 
pressions and  endeared  associations.  They  banish 
forms  of  expression  hallowed  by  recollections  of 
youth  and  purity,  and  which  however  illogical, 
were  perhaps  in  our  minds  so  modified  as  to  har- 
monize with  correct  principles  and  exalted  virtue. 
Still  they  must  abide  their  fate.  They  must  die  the 
death  of  error.  We  are  slow  to  admit  the  propri- 
ety of  such  harsh  treatment  of  sentiments  which  we 
had  long  revered.  If  we  suspect  we  were  wrong, 
we  are  almost  ready  to  wish  we  had  remained  so, 
and  even  when  we  assent  to  the  justice  of  the  sen- 
tence, suspect  the  executioner  of  reckless  and  un- 
feeling hardihood.  Hence  it  is,  that  errors  are 
suffered  to  accumulate  until  iheir  glaring  absurdity 
gives  confidence  to  the  votaries  of  abstraction,  and 
induces  them  boldly  to  apply  the  test  of  terms. 

They  modify  the  existing,  or  frame  a  new  system, 
retaining  of  the  old  all  that  will  abide  this  test,  and 
rejecting  much  that  is  absurd  and  contradictory. — 
They  thus  form  a  foundation  on  which  to  erect  a 
superstructure  of  substantial  truths.  Their  thoughts 
partake  of  its  strength  and  firmness;  their  philoso- 
phy is  sound,  their  perceptions  are  vigorous  and 
clearly  expressed,  but  a  rehgion  which  is  contained 
in  precise  finite  terms,  is  inadequate  to  the  bound- 
less cravings,  of  the  souL     The  ardor  of  discovery; 


^*t. 


MYSTERIES.  ]11 

tlie  fervor  of  improvement;  the  confidence  of  de- 
monstration; the  pleasure  derived  from  clearer, 
self-reconciling,  systematic  views,  may  for  a  time, 
be  alone  sufficient  to  sustain  its  votaries,  but  these 
very  causes  will  at  length  bring  them  to  a  point  at 
which  terras  will  fail  to  bear  them  forward,  or  even 
to  express  What  their  enlarged  views  have  enabled 
them  to  discover  of  the  numerous  and  delicate  re- 
lations which  exist  between  the  finite  spirit  and  the 
infinite.  Their  advancement  in  thought,  has  then 
outstripped  their  improvement  of  its  signs.  Their 
attempts  to  express  its  results  are  consequently  not 
understood,  and  the  Babel  which  they  hoped  to 
raise  to  the  skies,  is  by  this  confusion  of  language, 
arrested  in  its  progress,  and  its  founders  dispersed 
to  cultivate  various  portions  oi  the  world  of 
thought,  and  to  seek  their  way  to  Heaven,  each  in 
his  own  path  of  duty  and  virtue.  But  they  have 
already  accomplished  much;  they  have  discarded 
error,  and  acquired  and  made  known  the  means 
of  its  exclusion.  They  have  reduced  knowledge 
to  a  form  in  which  it  may  be  imparted  and  made 
useful  to  the  ignorant;  and  in  the  prosecution  of 
this  work,  they  have  improved  the  means  of  social 
intercourse,  and  given  to  words  a  power,  and  ex- 
pression, and  pervading  subtlety,  little  short  of  the 
original  thoughts  which  they  represent.  Still  it  is 
insufficient.  The  more  etherial  (probably  the  more 
etherial  sex)  will  be  the  first  to  feel  that  its  abstrac- 
tions are  too  cold   to  express  their   heartfelt  emo- 


112  MYSTERIES. 

tions,  too  limited  too  meet  their  expanding  views  of 
moral  excellence.  They  will  be  the  first  to  dis- 
cover, that  there  is  a  spiritual  refinement,  which  it 
has  not  power  to  portray — a  holy  charm,  a  sublime 
mystery,   which  it   does  not  approach. 

The  intuitive  principle  here  again  resumes  its 
sway.  Ideality  is  again  in  the  ascendant.  It  com- 
mences in  a  higher  sphere,  and  with  an  activity  in- 
creased by  the  accumulation  of  truth,  and  freedom 
from  error,  advances  with  a  rapidity  which  soon 
induces  the  want  of  something  in  which  to  embody 
its  accumulated  discoveries.  Some  of  the  most 
cultivated  and  gifted  spirits  will  naturally  adopt  the 
language  of  ideality  or  primitive  perceptions,  and 
their  most  etherial  thoughts  will  bear  this  impress 
of  their  poetic  origin:  but  in  the  dearth  of  language, 
and  of  skill  in  its  application,  ambiguous,  unmean- 
ing, and  even  absurd  phrases  may  be  adopted  by 
the  many,  as  the  nucleus  around  which  each  ar- 
ranges his  own  peculiar  and  indistinct  notions.  In 
process  of  time,  some  af  the  crude  maxims  of  the 
one  class,  acquire  undue  importance  as  relics  of 
ancient  wisdom,  and  the  refined  poetic  illustrations 
of  the  other,  are  received  as  literal  prosaic  asser- 
tions, but  still  carry  with  them  all  the  authority  of 
inspiration. 

These  causes,  in  addition  to  the  constant  muta- 
tions of  language,  give  rise  to  mysticisms,  which 
are  too  often  impressed  on  succeeding  generations, 
as  indissolubly  connected  with  the  brightest  nnd 


MYSTERIES.  113 

purest  truths 'which  hallow  the  thought  of  man. — 
Among  those  who  thus  receive  them,  will  be  some 
with  sufficient  sagacity  to  detect  the  error,  hut  not 
having  sufficient  philosophy  to  separate  it  from  the 
truths  with  which  they  have  always  seen  it  united, 
discard  the  whole  as  an  imposition  on  common 
sense,  and  as  insulting  to  their  understandings. 
Finding  that  to  be  false,  which  they  had  from  in- 
fancy looked  upon  as  indisputable,  they  view  every 
thing  else  with  suspicion,  and  abandon  themselves 
to  a  universal  skepticism.  Others  of  the  same 
class,  scarcely  less  unfortunate,  give  up  the  matter 
in  despair  of  understanding  it,  and  passively  yield 
to  the  faith  of  childhood  and  the- nursery ._  From 
these,  nothing  is  to  be  expected;  they  make  no  ef- 
fort at  improvement,  but  sluggishly  pursue  the 
beaten  track,  with  at  best  no  higher  virtue  than  the 
absence  of  crime,  no  higher  motive  than  present 
enjoyment,  and  exemption  from  present  care  and 
perplexity.  Fortunately  for  the  cause  of  human 
advancement,  there  is  another  class,  who  will  be 
at  the  pains  to  analyze  these  absurdities,  to  extract 
the  diluted  truths  which  have  given  them  currency, 
and  concentrating  them  in  the  terms  of  an  improv- 
ing language,  transmit  them  to  posterity  as  pure 
chrystals,  unalloyed  with  error,  unclouded  by  mys- 
tery, undisturbed  by  contradictions. 

In  the  department  of  physics,  we   often  observe' 
henomena,  which  we  cannot  account  for  upon  any 
J 


114'  MYSTERIES. 

known  principles,  or  which  we  cannot  class  with 
any  already  established  genera.  These  mysteries 
of  the  material  universe,  are  continually  yielding  to 
the  advances  of  science,  and  opening  the  way  to 
others  before  unnoticed.  They  are  occasionally 
rendered  more  obscure  by  unskilful  expressions 
and  blind  prejudibes,  but  in  the  main  are  well  de- 
fined. In  this  class  we  may  rank  what  for  the  time 
being  are  ultimate  principles,  the  cause  of  the  po- 
larity of  light,  of  magnetism,  its  connexion  with 
electricity,  and  other  facts  which  have  been  ob- 
served, but  which  apparently  are  not  referable  to 
any  known  laws.  In  the  moral  and  intellectual 
world,  phenomena  analogous  to  these  are  present- 
ed; but  here,  the  difficulties  arising  from  ill  applied 
terms,  and  from  long  estabhshed  prejudices,  be- 
come much  greater  and  cause  gross  absurdities. 
Hence  has  arisen  a  feeling  against  mysteries,  and 
disposed  many  to  discard  them  entirely,  but  this  is 
to  circumscribe  themselves  within  present  defined 
limits,  and  bars  all  further  progress.  Others,  with 
the  blindness  of  bigotry,  admit  the  mysteries  in 
whatever  form  they  may  have  already  assumed,  and 
however  preposterous  they  may  appear,  deny  the 
expediency  of  any  change,  and  even  the  propriety 
of  any  inquiry.  It  is  thus  that  what  at  first  were 
cheering  anticipations  of  truth  distorted  by  igno- 
rance, and  clouded  by  superstition,  are  perpetuat- 
ed as  errors,  and  throw  their  darkening  shadows 
over  the  very  spots  they  at  first  illumined.     The 


MYSTERIES.  115 

rational  mysteries  of  the  moral  and  intellectual 
world,  arise  from  those  ineffable  visions  which  are 
arrived  at  when  the  noble  sallies  of  the  soul  carry 
it  beyond  its  usual  limits,  and  afford  it  transient 
and  indistinct  perceptions  of  something,  which  it 
cannot  define  or  represent  by  signs,  but  which 
serve  to  awaken  curiosity  and  stimulate  inquiry. 

This  field  of  imperfect  discovery  the  mind  fills 
with  beautiful  ideals,  and  in  its  contemplation  real- 
izes with  delightful  certainty  that  it  is  still  free, 
still  expanding,  and  has  ample  space  for  the  exer- 
cise and  improvement  of  its  invigorated  powers. 
Such  mysteries,  and  their  happy  influences,  are 
the  result  of  processes  of  ideality,  leading  us  for- 
ward, sometimes  so  far  as  to  strain  our  feeble  pow- 
ers, and  far,  very  far,  beyond  the  application  of 
terms  or  signs.  Their  changing  forms  are  seeij 
only  in  the  mists  of  poetry,  but  yielding  gradually 
to  increasing  light  and  knowledge,  they  assume  a 
settled  form,  and  are  embodied  in  the  language  of 
abstraction,  which  changes  them  from  the  poetic 
form  of  ideality,  and  as  it  is  well  or  ill  applied, 
converts  them  into  philosophical  truths  or  prosaic 
errors. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  happy  influence  of  mys- 
teries, but  we  must  be  understood  as  meaning  only 
those  mysteries  which  are  continually  hovering 
near  the  outer  verge  of  science,  and  which,  how- 
ever far  we  may  extend  our  views  will  continue  to 
unfold    themselves    in    the.  expanding    horizon. — - 


116  MYSTERIES. 

These,  as  we  have  before  remarked,  are  rational 
mysteries.  Language  not  having  been  extended  to 
them,  they  are  exckisrvely  in  the  province  of  ide- 
ahty;  and  are  widely  different  from  those  ver- 
bal mystifications,  contradictions  and  absurdities, 
which  in  some  instances  have  been  substituted  for 
iheni.  These  have  been  held  out  to  mankind  as 
false  lights,  involving  them  in  inextricable  difficul- 
ties. They  have  been  presented  as  'the  objects  on 
v.'hich  to  direct  the  sublime  power  of  improve- 
ment, but  all  hope  of  advancing  denied  them.  In 
very  mockery  of  their  human  wants,  and  divine  as- 
pirations, something  having  the  appearance  of  the 
anplucked  fruit  of  knowledge  has  been  presented 
to  them,  but  they  forbidden,  under  the  most  terri- 
ble penalties,  to  taste  or  touch  it,  and  with  the  infi-  . 
nite  tendencies  of  the  soul  thus  shackled,  they  have 
l)een  told  to  rest  their  highest  hopes  on  the  verity 
of  verbal  involutions,-  which  they  are  authoritatively 
told,  they  cannot  and  ought  not  to  unfold.  The 
expansive  power  thus  directed  against  an  obstacle 
which  is  deemed  insurmountable,  loses  its  elastici- 
ty, and  the  mind  learns  submission  to  a  state  of 
passive,  unchanging  ignorance. 

The  free  spirit  which  has  escaped  these  fetters, 
is  always  pressing  forward.  In  its  bold  incursions 
into  the  infinite,  it  is  continually  making  -discove- 
ries, but  superstition  too  often  follows,  and  with 
the  iron  grasp  of  tyranny,  seizes  the  new  domain. 
To  rescue  these  fair  provinces  from  this  gloomy 


MYSTERIES.  117 

despotism,  becomes  the  object  of  succeeding  phi- 
losophers. They  bring  all  tlie  force  of  well  mar- 
shalled terms  to  aid  them  in  the  enterprise.  But 
what  avails  this  array  of  strength  in  a  crusade 
against  a  subtle  enemy,  continually  shifting  its  po- 
sition, and  always  eluding  attack.  But  though  the 
toil  of  philanthropic  philosophers  has  apparently 
been  in  vain — though  the  life  stream  of  the  inspir- 
ed enthusiast  has  scarcely  sufficed  to  moisten  the 
arid  sands  on  which  it  has  freely  flowed — though 
the  very  soil  on  which  truth  first  shone,  may  be 
held  by  the  ignorant  and  benighted,  and  supersti- 
tion still  sway  its  sceptre  over  these  fair  portions 
of  this  holy  land,  yet  truth  itself  is  ever  gradually 
and  silently  accomplishing  its  objects,  and  at 
length,  manifests  itself  with  such  universal  power, 
that  prejudice  yields,  and  even  bigotry  feels  its  in- 
fluence. 

The  mysteries  of  ideality  are  as  graceful,  yield- 
ing, glowing  clouds,  seen  through  the  atmosphere 
of  knowledge.  Like  the  distant  nebula,  they  tell 
the  philosopher  that  all  beyond  is  not  a  void — that 
there  still  exists  a  field  of  discovery — that  what 
now  appears'  unconnected,  or  at  best  an  excres- 
cence, may,  to  his  expanding  views,  become  har- 
moniously reconciled  in  the  arrangements  of  a  larger 
sphere,  and  what  now  seems  only  an  obscure  speck, 
may  with  distinct  and  brilliant  rays,'hght  and  guide 
him  on  his  way  to  unthought  of  discoveries.  They 
thus  awaken  in  the   soul  a  consciousness   of  the 

T* 


118  BIYSTERIES. 

boundless  Mature  of  truth,  and  of  the  infinite  pro- 
gression of  its  own  immortal  powers.  They  in- 
spire it  with  enthusiasm,  and  rouse  it  to  that  exer- 
tion which  is  necessary  to  the  fulfilment  of  its  high- 
est destinies.  These  indistinct  primitive  percep- 
tions— these  adumbrations  of  truth,  which  dawn  on 
the  free  and  aspiring  mind,  are  directly  opposed  to 
those  spurious  mysteries,  which  consist  of  artificial 
arrangements  of  terms,  and  are  sustained  by  repres- 
sing inquiry  and  keeping  the  mind  in  that  state  of 
darkness  which  precludes  examination.  These  are 
as  dense  mists  around  us,  in  which  we  may  con- 
jure up  many  strange  phantoms,  but  must  be  dis- 
pelled before  we  can  see  any  thing  clearly  or  aright. 
They  obstruct  our  vision,  weaken  our  powers,  re- 
tard our  progress,  and  some  of  them,  especially  the 
dogmas  of  rehgion,  dampen  ardor  and  hide  from 
us  the  brightest  paths  and  fairest  fields  of  human 
investigation.  There  is,  however,  one  circum- 
stance, which  gives  these  artificial  mysteries  an  ad- 
vantage over  the  natural.  Having  already  assumed 
the  concrete  form,  they  are  fixed  and  inflexible. — 
Continually  presented  to  us  with  the  same  aspect, 
they  take  a  stronger  hold  of  our  perceptions. — 
Through  all  the  changing  scenes  of  life  they  remain 
the  same.  They  are  as  plants  of  the  joyous  spring 
of  existence,  which  however  worthless,  have  not 
decayed.  They  have  not  improved  by  cultivation, 
but  like  noxious  weeds,  producing  no  good  fruit, 
have  been  suffered  to  grow  for  want  of  it.   In  them 


MYSTERIES.  119 

mind  makes  no  progress.  On  them  time  makes  no 
impression.  The  observances  connected  with  them 
are  the  same,  and  carry  with  them  into  age  the  as- 
sociations of  youth.  They  form, a  continuous  chain 
to  whose  uniform  links  are  united  all  the  recollec- 
tions of  the  past,  and  all  the  anticipations  of  the 
future.  A  thread  of  fiction  stringing  together  the 
realities  of  Hfe.  They  make  a  portion  of  the  uni- 
lorm  web  on  which  is  woven  the  varied  colors 
which  brighten  and  shade  existence.  Nor  are  these 
counterfeit  mysteries  wholly  without  these  better 
influences  which  appertain  to  the  real.  Those  who 
are  deceived  with  them,  receive  a  baser  coin  than 
is  issued  from  the  mint  of  truth;  but  that  they  have 
thus  received  them,  is  an  evidence  that  the  love  of 
truth  remains.  That  portion  of  prospective  hap- 
piness which  arises  from  the  consciousness  that 
mind  has  not  yet  filled  the  measure  of  its  capaci- 
ties may  be  associated  with  them.  They  are  all 
that  he  is  permitted  to  conjecture  of  the  bright  paths 
which  would  lead  him  to  a  higher  sphere.  Human 
skill  may  have  made  the  perspective  so  imposing, 
that  instead  of  mere  proximate  illusions  of  light  and 
shade,  they  appear  to  the  victim  of  the  deception 
as  realities  extending  far  beyond  his  earthly  hopes. 
To  him  they  are  still  truth  in  an  inscrutable  guise, 
and  may  still  excite  in  him  that  devotion,  which 
when  rightly  appreciated,  she  always  inspires.  He 
may  listen  to  the  voice  which  is  his  authority  for 
what  is  yet  undiscovered.     He  may  again  and  again 


120  MYSTERIES. 

repeat  the  mystic  rites,  which  serve  to  amuse  his 
hopes  without  awakening  exertion;  and  he  may 
visit  the  scenes  where  these  mysteries  have  been 
made  famihar  to  him,  and  ponder  on  the  visible 
types  of  invisible  truth,  as  we  linger  around  the 
grave  of  friendship,  while  we  expect  to  meet  the 
spirit  which  consecrates  the  spot  only  in  another 
world.  And  this  veneration  for  what  he  is  told  is 
the  robe  of  truth,  this  devotion  for  all  which  bears 
her  impress,  may  prevent  a  reckless  scepticism, 
and  sustain  some  of  the  better  feelings,  of  the  ex- 
istence of  which  they  are  undoubted  evidence. — 
The  evil  is  that  they  will  not  allow  these  better 
feelings  to  expand  and  improve.  They  cramp  the 
soul,  and  if  it  ever  discovers  that  its  affections  have 
been  misplaced  and  fastened  on  worthless  absurdi- 
ties, its  confidence  in  the  virtuous  principles  which 
it  had  been  taught  to  associate  with  them,  is  weak- 
ened, if  not  destroyed. 


INFLUENCE    OF    IDEALITY,   ETC.        '      121 


In  the  formation  of  character,  ideaUty  exerts  an 
influence  of  the  highest  importance.   It  is  the  chan- 
nel by  whidi  the  conceivable  objects  of  desire  or 
aversion  are  brought  nearest  to  the  springs  of  vol- 
untary   action.      From  those   supposeable   events 
which  are  continually  flowing  through  the  mind,  we 
form  rules  of  conduct  or  receive  impressions  which 
imperceptibly  govern  us   in   the  concerns    of  real 
life.      It  is  in  meditation  that  we  nurture  those  in- 
nate feelings,  whichvgive  impulse  to  action,  and  de- 
termine its  mode.     He  who  accustoms  himself  to 
this  discipline — who  withdraws  from  the  bustle  of 
the  world,  and  in  tranquility  contemplates  imagina  - 
ry  cases,  and  determines  how  he  ought  to  act  un- 
der them,  frames  for  himself  a  system  of  govern- 
ment, with  less  liability  to  error,  than  he  can  do  in 
the  tumultuous  scenes   of  life.      He  is  not  swayed 
by  those  interests  and  passions  which  so  often  dis- 
tort the  views  of  those  who  act  from  the  impulse  of 
immediate  and  pressing  circumstances.    The  beau- 
tiful and  the  good  rise  in  glowing  forms  before  him 
and  lighthispath  to  excellence.      The  processes  of 
ideality  in  which  he  indulges,   may  not  exactly  fit 
the  occasions  which  actually  arise,  but  in  the  vast 
number  of  them  which  even  the  most  busy  life  ad- 
mits of,  there  will  probably   be  found   many  which 
are  in  some  degree  applicable  to  every  contingen- 
cy.    They  will  at  least  furnish  analogies  and  give 


122  '      INFLUENCE  OF  IDEALITY 

him  habits  of  disinterested  thought  which  lead  to 
high  and  correct  views  of  duty  and  propriety. 

He  who  habitually  cultivates  thoughts  of  peace, 
who  lives  in  an  ideal  harmony  with  all  arouiid  him, 
and  moistens  the  tenderness  of  his  nature  at  the 
pure  fountains  of  an  indwelling  benevolence,  ren- 
ders himself  more  susceptible  to  the  pleasures  of 
society,  and  less  obnoxious  to  the  cross  incidents 
which  sometimes  mar  its  happiness.  If  these  un- 
opportunatel;'^  happen  to  disturb  him,  he  finds  in  his 
primitive  perceptions  of  the  moral  beauty  of  kind- 
ness and  social  order,  a  balsam  for  his  wounded 
spirit,  which  sooths  the  painful  asperity  of  his  la- 
cerated feelings,  and  restores  him  to  tranquility  and 
cheerfulness.  He  who  in  all  the  fancied  or  ex- 
pected collisions  of  interest  or  opinion,  maintains 
a  calm  and  unrufiied  temper;  represses  the  irritable 
feelings,  and  calls  into  action  those  which  are  mild 
and  conciliating,  is  fortifying  himself  against  the 
rude  attacks  of  the  world,  and  elevating  himself 
above  its  petty  conflicts.  Thus  prepared,  he  meets 
the  crosses  and  trials  which  are  the  lot  of  existence, 
with  fortitude  and  serenity.  To  him  they  are  but 
occasions  for  the  exercise  of  those  amiable  virtues 
which  he  has  drawn  from  the  pure  sources  of  ideal- 
ity. They  enable  him  to  act  out  what  he  has  con- 
ceived. Like  the  majestic  oak  he  derives  strength 
from  the  storms  which  assails  him.  Without  this 
happy  internal  agency  which  is  ever  exerting  its  un- 
suspected power,  the  character  would  be   formed 


ON  CHARACTER.  123 

and  developed  only  by  the  occurrences  of  life,  and 
we  should  always  be  obhged  to  judge  of  propriety 
at  the  very  moment  when  we  should  be  most  liable 
to  be  biased  by  the  influence  of  peculiar  circum- 
stances, interest  or  passion.  FeeHngs  thus  brought 
into  exercise  only  amid  the  stir  and  strife  of  the 
world,  would  probably  become  coarse,  harsh  and 
selfish.  The  processes  of  ideality  may  correct  this 
tendency — may  refine  the  affections  and  give  lib- 
erahty  to  sentiment.  They  can  soften  the  rigid 
feelings,  and  mould  them  in  their  own  forms  of 
beauty,  but  at  the  same  time  when  perverted  they 
greatly  increase  the  evil  which  they  should  be  made 
the  means  of  averting. 

Situations  of  difficulty  and  danger,  induce  a  cor- 
responding cultivation  of  those  sterner  qualities 
which  are  then  required.  The  savage,  in  contin- 
ual danger  of  attack,  sustains  his  warlike  spirit  by 
imaginary  achievements  accomplished  in  ideal  con- 
flict with  the  enemies  of  his  tribe.  He  fancies  h  im- 
self  in  mortal  combat,  and  feels  the  glow  of  mar- 
tial enthusiasm  thrill  through  his  veins,  exciting 
him  to  deeds  of  valor  or  desperation. 

He  conceives  himself  the  fettered  victim  of  the 
strife,  and  nerves  himself  to  endure  the  torture 
with  uncomplaining  fortitude.  Courage  and  a  pow- 
er of  endurance,  with  them,  are  the  highest  attain- 
ments,— these  occupy  their  thoughts;  and  that 
their  growth  is  stimulated  by  processes  of  ideality, 
is  evinced  in  their  rude  songs — the  barbarous  poe- 


124  INFLUENCE   OF   IDEALITY 

try,  in  which  these  processes  naturally  find  ut- 
terance. These  depict  wai'like  courage,  soul-in- 
spiring danger,  and  heroic  fortitude.  All  this  may 
be  necessary  in  the  rude  state  of  society,  when 
there  are  no  laws  to  counteract  brute  force,  but 
even  in  its  more  advanced  state,  analogous  causes 
undo  the  effects  of  civilization,  and  generate  the 
savage  character  in  the  midst  of  refinement.  He 
who  has  been  compelled  into  keen  collision  with 
others,  fosters  the  energies  which  are  requisite  in 
the  strife,  and  sometimes  acquires  a  morbid  taste 
for  such  excitements  after  the  occasions  for  them 
have  passed  away.  When  this  is  the  case,  his 
ideal  processes  flow  in  the  same  channel.  Dis- 
cord, and  its  attendant  train  of  disturbing  influences 
continually  occupy  his  mind.  His  spirit  becomes 
fiery  and  ferocious;  his  will  impetuous  and  impa- 
tient of  control.  The  mahgnant  passions  habitu- 
ally acquire  a  dreadful  ascendancy.  Embittered 
feeling,  demoniac  rage,  and  furious  revenge,  be- 
come the  elements  in  which  he  lives,  and  inhales 
a  stimulus,  which  gives  frantic  vigor  to  the  worst 
passions  of  the  heart,  while  its  poison  intoxicates, 
convulses  and  maddens  the  soul. 

But. low  as  he  has  tlius  fallen,  he  has  not  yet 
reached  the  worst  condition.  While  he  acts  from 
impulse,  even  though  it  be  the  impulse  of  fierce 
and  disturbing  passion,  he  will  still  exhibit  some- 
thing of  the  greatness  of  his  nature.  The  unsub- 
dued energy  of  purpose,  strong  determination,  un- 


ON  CHARACTER.  125 

conquerable  will — his  very  recklessness,  impress 
us  as  the  over  excited  action  of  a  noble  though  per- 
verted spirit — of  a  spirit,  which  like  the  tempest 
cloud,  adds  to  the  sublimity  of  the  scene  which  it 
darkens.  It  glows  not  with  the  warm  beams  of 
heaven,  nor  reflects  its  softened  rays,  but  while 
it  rejects  its  benign  radiance,  from  its  dark  bosom 
emits  its  own  fierce  and  terrific  gleams.  And- 
with  these  workings  of  power  a  sympathy  is  felt  by 
milder  and  better  natures.  It  is  not  until  the  pro- 
cesses of  ideality,  perverted  to  evil,  and  cramped 
within  the  little  sphere  of  self,  have  gradually  ex- 
terminated all  spontaneous  impulse,  and  substituted 
in  its  place,  cold  calculation,  low  cunning,  and 
mean  artifice,,  that  the  moral  nature  becomes  whol- 
ly repulsive  and  disgusting.  This  is  premeditated 
depravity.  It  is  poisoning  the  fountain  from  which 
every  action  flows.  To  destroy  the  natural  or 
early  formed  impulses  is  a  work  requiring  no  little 
pains.  It  is  probably  efiected,  by  magnifying  the 
advantages  of  selfishness,  by  recalling  events  in 
which  a  yielding  to  generous  impulse  has  interfer- 
ed with  it,  and  searching  oufcthe  modes  by  which, 
under  similar  circumstances,  a  repetition  of  it  may 
be  avoided.  These  are  processes  of  ideality,  in 
which  the  individual  wilfully  excludes  the  pleas- 
ures which  arise  from  the  generous  emotions,  and 
by  this  means  destroys  their  natural  connexion  with 
the  springs  of  action,  and  estabhshes  in  their  room, 
a    system    of    narrow    prudential    considerations, 

K 


126        INFLUENCE  OF  IDEALITY 

which  cramps  and  degrades  his  moral  nature;  in- 
duces a  meanness  incompatible  with  the  dignity  of 
virtue,  and  shuts  out  all  the  finest  feelings  and  no- 
blest aspirations  of  the  soul. 

It  appears  strange,  that  a  labor,  thus  painful  in  its 
performance,  and  leading  to  such  baneful  results, 
should  ever  be  accomplished.  It  is  no  doubt  gen- 
.erally  done  with  a  view  to  some  immediate  object, 
without  reference  to  its  ultimate  effect,  and  without 
a  sufficient  examination  of  the  laws  of  our  being. 
But  even  with  his  vision  circumscribed  by  this  cul- 
pable neglect,  no  one  ever  committed  this  cold- 
blooded mutilation  of  soul  without  a  sense  of  the  im- 
mediate violence  and  degradation,  as  none  ever 
fostered  the  generous  sentiments,  without  a  feeling 
of  exaltation  and  a  conscious  susceptibility  to  pur- 
er plea&ures.  The  power  which  we  exert  over 
our  moral  nature,  though  less  nobly  exhibited,  is 
more  strongly  attested  by  its  perversion  than  by 
its  improvement.  In  the  formation  of  the  avari- 
cious character,  for  instance,  more  than  in  the  most 
generous  virtue.  In  the  one  case  it  seems  to  ad- 
vance with  perfect  freedom  in  the  path  of  its  own 
4lp  choice  and  to  be  led  forward  by  the  delights  which 
.,  attend  its  progress.  In  the  other  it  is  forced  back 
against  the  current  of  its  affections,  fettered  and 
■  guarded  with  tyrannic  vigilance,  and  made  subser- 
vient to  the  most  degrading  purposes.  The  mis- 
er looks  upon  the  man  of  liberality  as  one  too  weak 
to  resist   the   dictates  of   generosity.     He    knows 


ON  CHARACTER.  127 

the  labor  which  his  own  prudence  has  cost  him, 
and  congratulates  himself  on  his  exemption  from 
such  benevolent  frailties.  The  higher  pleasures  are 
to  him  unreal,  and  the  pursuit  of  them  visionary. 
In  curbing  the  expansive  tendency  of  his  moral 
nature,  he  has  shown  us  how  great  a  power  we  may 
exert  in  controlling  it,  as  the  martyr  who  held  his 
hand  in  the  flames  which  consumed  it,  gave  more 
striking  proof  of  the  powder  of  the  mental  over  the 
physical  system,  than  the  most  skilful  and  useful 
application  of  it  w^ould  have  done. 

That  we  have  such  a  power  of  modifying  our 
dispositions  is  perhaps  sufficiently  obvious,  though 
too  often  overlooked  in  its  practical  application. 
The  great  means  by  which  these  modifications  are 
effected,  we  believe  to  be  processes  of  ideality, 
and  that  the  principal  causes  of  the  wrong  forma- 
tion of  character  are  the  perversion  of  these  pro- 
cesses to  foster  ignoble  passions,  and  the  w^ant  of 
their  influence  in  counteracting  the  effects  of  ex- 
ternal causes.  Fortunately  the  occasions  of  life 
which  have  a  tendency  to  warp  the  disposition, 
though  frequent,  have  their  intervals,  are  transient, 
and  in  some  degree  neutralize  each  other.  The 
forms  of  ideality  may  always  be  brought  to  mind, 
and  if  we  encourage  the  presence  of  those  only 
which  are  pure  and  elevated,  we  shall,  as  a  conse- 
quence, become  more  and  more  refined  and  enno- 
bled. Without  this  countervailing  principle,  our 
moral  nature  would  be  the  sport  of   chance,  liable 


128  INFLUENCE  OF   IDEALITY 

to  be  irretrievably  driven  from  its  course,  by  every 
current  of  feeling  and  every  storm  of  passion. 
Character  would  then  depend  on  accidental  and  phys- 
ical causes.  But  in  the  contemplation  of  the  con- 
ceivable events  which  continually  occupy  the  mind, 
and  the  careful  retention  of  the  primitive  percep- 
tions which  inspire  us  with  virtuous  emotion,  we 
find  a  more  steady  influence,  which,  with  proper  at- 
tention, counteracts  the  effects  of  accidents,  ele- 
vates us  above  the  power  of  circumstance,  and  effec- 
tually protects  us  from  a  fatality  otherwise  inevitable, 
in  the  over  active  life  of  those  who  task  their 
whole  abilities  in  business  pursuits,  the  succession 
of  impelling  circumstances  is  often  so  close  as  not 
to  admit  of  a  sufficient  infusion  of  ideality  to  tem- 
per their  irritating  and  engrossing  influence,  and 
the  character  is  consequently  in  danger  of  losing 
its  amiable  and  expansive  qualities.  The  frequent 
occurrence  of  this  has  probably  given  rise  to  a  not 
uncommon  impressiop,  that  moral  character  is  nee ■> 
essarily  the  result  of  external  circumstances.  And 
this  we  believe  to  be  one  reason  of  the  too  little 
value  usually  attached  to  it.  We  too  often  regard 
the  possession  of  it,  rather  as  an  evidence  of  good 
fortune,  than  of  a  useful  and  wise  discipline  on  the 
part  of  the  possessor,  and  the  exercise  of  it  as  a 
mere  act  of  volition,  involving  no  difficulty,  and 
though  deserving  praise,  yet  calling  for  no  distinct 
tion.  Hence  too  it  is,  that  we  are  prone  to  make 
the    more  palpably  active    intellectuD,!  powers  the 


ON  CHARACTER.  129 

Standard  of  excellence,  and  the  obj  ects  of  our   ad- 
miration. 

But  when  we  consider  morality  as  the  result  of 
the  most  delicate  cultivation,  it- assumes  a  higher 
elevation.  We  then  look  upon  the  actions  of  the 
virtuous,  as  but  the  indications  of  a  harmony  with- 
in, the  expression  of  an  instrument  whose  fine  tones 
have  been  improved  amid  the  discord  of  confused 
and  troubled  scenes.  We  are  led  to  admire  the 
moral  energy  which  has  infused  itself  into  each  del- 
icate >pring,  and  preserved  its  perfections  amid  the 
agitations  to  which  it  has  been  continually  exposed. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  power  of  ideali- 
ty in  enabling  us  to  fall  into  the  same  channels  of 
thought  which  our  acquaintances  would  pursue.  If 
we  mistake  not,  this  is  particularly  obvious  in  the  ap- 
plication of  it  which  we  are  now  considering.  How 
often  when  we  have  determined  on  a  course  of  con- 
duct, particularly  when  that  determination  is  formed 
under  the  influence  of  exciting  circumstances,  are 
we  led  to  suspect  the  propriety  of  it,  by  thinking 
how  some  friend  would  view  it.  We  put  ourselves 
in. his  position,  look  at  it  calmly,  as  he  would  do, 
endeavor  to  get  the  same  aspect  as  would  be 
presented  to  hini,  and  then  perhaps  discover  that 
our  own  vision  had  been  distorted,  and  led  into  er- 
ror. In  this  way,  through  the  medium  of  this  fac- 
,ulty,  we  make   the   virtue   and   discretion   of  our 


130  INFLUENCE   OF    IDEALITY,    ETC. 

friends  available   to  us.     We  use   iheir   modes  of 
thought  to  mould  our  own.* 

There  is  peculiar  consolation  in  the  consideration 
that  mind  possesses  in  these  varied  forms  of  ideal- 
ity, an  inherent  power  of  resisting  or  modifying  the 
influence  of  material  causes;  that  it  has  a  mode 
which  is  as  near  to  our  moral,  as  sensation  is  to  our 
physical,  nature  It  elevates  it  to  a  more  command- 
ing eminence,  gives  it  a  tone  of  conscious  superi- 
ority, and  makes  us  feel  at  once  the  meanness  of 
yielding,  and  our  ability  to  triumph  over  the  petty 
trials  and  temptations   which  assail  us. 

The  examination  of  past  conduct,  and  of  sup- 
])osed  caaes,  is  no  doubt  frequently  performed  in 
the  abstract  mode,  but  from  the  greater  length  of 
tim.e  which  it  requires,  it  is  impossible  that  this 
juethod  should  always  be  resorted  to,  and  when  it 
is,  although  it  may  establish  general  principles,  it 
Is  less  moving,  and  has  a  less  direct  influence  on 
the  conduct,  than  those  scenic  representations 
wliich  are  so  faithfully  acted  in  the  theatre  within 
us.  Ideality  is  in  this  respect  the  nearest  approach 
to  reality. 

This  expansive  element,  which  thus  exhibits  it- 
scli"  in  the  formation  of  the  most  common  charac- 


*  Charles  Lamb,  in  iilliiding  to  his  friend  Coleridge,  then  recently 
deceased,  says:  "His  great  and  dear  spirit  haunts  me.  I  cannot 
think  a  thought,  I  cannot  make  a  criticism  on  men  or  books,  without 
an  ineffectual  turning  and  reference  to  hira.  He  was  the  proof  and 
touchstone  of  all  my  cogitations." 


PROPHECY.  131 

ter,  becomes  more  conspicuous,  in  those  extraor- 
dinary manifestations  of  mind,  which  have  occa- 
sionally illumined  the  world  with  a  brightness  al- 
most superhuman. 

In  its  most  humble  guise — that  in  which  it  min- 
gles with  the  business  of  life,  and  in  which  its  ex- 
pansive power  is  almost  neutralized  by  the  pre- 
dominance of  the  grosser  nature,  it  is  the  basis  of 
that  common  sense,  which  is  universally  regarded, 
^iot*only  as  differing,  but  as  somewhat  opposed  to 
the  verbal  refinement  of  those  who,  arriving  at  their 
conclusions  through  the  medium  of  terms,  can  state 
them,  however  chimerical,  in  the  plausible  and  im- 
posing forms  of  syllogistic  reasoning.  It  is  some- 
times this  which  induces  a  man  to  withhold  his  as- 
sent from  the  results  of  an  argument  which  he  can- 
not refute.  The  processes  of  ideality  do  not  re- 
veal to  him  the  relation  which  the  terms  of  the 
reasoner  have  pointed  out.  From  this,  the  most 
alloyed  form  in  which  the  etherial  principle  is  ob- 
servable, its  inherent  property  is  developed  as  it 
mcreases  in  purity,  until  it  exhibits  its  divellent  ten- 
dency in  the  random  gleams  of  poetic  phrenzy,  giv- 
ing in  the  distance  transient  and  indistinct  percep- 
tions of  whatever  its  uncertain  flashes  chance  to 
beam  upon;  or  still  controlled  and  directed  by  a 
■firm  philosophy  and  ardent  pursuit  of  truth,  it  ex- 
pands under  their  influence,  until  embracing  in  the 
form  of  primitive  perceptions,  all  the  great  attri- 
lautes  of  man,  and  the  laws  which  regulate  his  pro- 


1  32  PROPHECY. 

gression,  it  displays  to  its  votaries  the  connexion 
between  the  present  and  the  future  with  the  clear- 
ness of  revelation,  and  enables  them  to  predict  with 
inspired  confidence.  If  in  the  earliest  and  weak- 
est manifestation,  when  directed  only  to  the  little 
circle  of  events  around  us,  incited  only  by  a  selfish 
interest — obscured  by  the  mists  of  an  imperfect 
morality,  and  liable  to  perversion  from  the  wishes, 
the  hopes,  the  fears,  and  the  darker  passions  which 
agitate  and  perturb  the  undisciplined  and  unpurffied 
mind.  If  under  such  circumstances  it  can  enable 
us  to  anticipate  some  small  portion  of  the  future, 
can  it  be  doubted  that  in  its  highest  state  of  culti- 
vation, when  capable  of  embracing  "  all  this  maze 
of  man,"  when  its  perceptions  are  quickened  by  a 
pure  morality,  when  inspired  by  a  universal  philan- 
thropy, and  all  the  feelings  and  passions  of  the  man 
are  merged  in  an  enthusiastic  devotion  to  truth; 
can  it  be  doubted  that  these  anticipations  may  then 
assume  the  importance,  the  reach,  the  dignity,  and 
the  certainty  of  prophetic  revelation.'  Are  not  the 
superiority  of  the  elements  which  are  thus  brought 
into  action  proportioned  to  such  a  result.'' 

But  we  mean  not  to  imply  that  this  highly  im- 
proved state  of  this  endowment  is  common.  On 
the  contrary,  he  who  has  arrived  at  this  state  of  re- 
finement, this  freedom  from  selfishness  and  the  dis- 
tractions of  sense,  this  purity  of  passion  and  an- 
gelic devotion,  has  already  attained  an  elevation  far 
beyond  the  ordinary  lot  of  mortals;  and   we  have 


PROPHECY.  133 

before  considered  one  essential  element  of  this 
power,  that  of  coping  with  general  propositions  in 
the  form  of  ideals,  as  properly  belonging  rather  to 
a  higher  state  of  existence.  The  spirit,  then,  which 
has  attained  such  reach  of  thought  and  clearness  of 
perception,  has  anticipated  its  destiny,  and  the  at- 
tributes of  humanity,  by  care  and  cultivation,  have 
been  early  matured  to  the  celestial.  In  such  a 
spirit  the  etherial  principle  manifests  itself  in  un- 
wonted purity,  and  the  impassioned  soul,  though 
wrought  upon  by  its  most  expansive  influence,  still 
preserves  its  integrity  and  unity  of  purpose.  In  the 
highest  exhibitions  of  its  power,  it  seems  borne  for- 
ward on  a  whirlwind  of  thought,  but  in  this  moral 
tempest  retains  its  self-possession,  and  with  a  tran- 
quil, God-like  power,  directs  and  controls  its  light- 
ning energies. 

We  would  not  be  understood  to  say  that  this 
spiritual  refinement  of  the  processes  of  ideality,  is 
the  only  source  of  prophecy.  We  are  aware  that 
this  knowledge  of  the  future  may  flow  immediately 
from  that  infinitely  purer  foiuitain  of  all  knowledge, 
to  which  the  most  advanced  terrestrial  spirit  is  but 
in  the  earliest  stage  of  a  never  ending  approxima- 
tion. But  we  do  wish  to  inculcate  the  idea,  that 
in  that  portion  of  intelligence  which  is  allotted  to 
man,  there  is  infused  a  principle,  which  in  its  low- 
est state,  enables  him  to  form  probable  conjectures 
of  future  events  most  connected  with  the  objects 
pf  his  thoughts,  and   that  this  'principle   admits  of 


134  PROPHECY. 

indefinite  improvement  and  extension.  That  when 
redeemed  from  a  narrow  selfishness,  and  unencum- 
bered by  the  gross  and  sensual, — in  short,  when 
exerting  its  influence  under  circumstances  similar 
to  those  which  we  have  supposed  to  favor  our  pro- 
gress in  the  hereafter,  it  will  advance  us  to  that 
purer  region  of  knowledge,  from  which  more  dis- 
tant portions  of  futurity  are  distinctly  visible;  and 
we  would  wish  to  direct  attention  to  the  similarity 
between  the  two  sources  of  prophecy.  They  are 
both  manifestations  of  spirit.  One  is  infallible,  and 
the  other  is  the  nearest  approach  of  a  finite  intelli- 
gence to  it.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  record- 
ed instances  in  which  the  great  I  AM  revealed  him- 
self in  articulate  language,  they  are  equally  spirit- 
ual discernings  of  truth,  and  when  God  reveals  the 
future  by  imparting  more  power  and  penetration  to 
the  purified  spirit,  and  thus  making  its  discernings 
more  clear  and  certain,  it  still  differs  not  from  the 
processes  of  ideality  in  kind,  but  only  in  degree. 
It  is  then  only  an  increase  of  the  power  which  he 
originally  gave.  We  are  not  prepared  to  call  this 
miraculous,  for  if  the  Supreme  Being  governs  in- 
ferior intelligences  through  the  medium  of  fixed, 
natural  laws,  this  increase  of  pow-er  may  be  a  nat- 
ural effect  of  increased  purity  and  cultivation.  Or, 
if  he  governs  them  by  his  immediate  volitions,  this 
result  may  still  be  conformable  to  the  uniform  modes 
which  he  has  adopted. 

We  apprehend  that  oji  this  subject,  the  views  of 


PROPHECY.  135 

many  have  been  perverted,  by  conceiving  the  su- 
preme intelhgence  as  existing  only  at  a  great  dis- 
tance from  the  httle  sphere  of  humanity;  that  there 
is  a  great  void  between,  which  omnipresence  does 
not  fill,  and  which  omnipotence  cannot  traverse 
without  an  effort.  But  how  much  more  just  and 
ennobling  is  the  conception  that  we  are  in  the 
midst  of  this  omnipresence — that  our  finite  spirits 
are  blended  with  the  infinite — associated  with  it  by 
innumerable  relations,  and  with  affinities  continual- 
ly increasing  as  it  ;issiinilates  to  it  in  purity  and  ho- 
liness— that  we  hold  communion  with  omniscience 
— that  through  the  medium  of  the  material  world 
we  continually  imbibe  a  knowledge  of  the  ways  of 
nature's  God,  while  his  spiritual  reveafings  enlarge 
our  views  of  moral  excellence  and  light,  and  guide 
us  in  our  progress  towards  perfection. 

We  wish  not  to  lessen  the  estimation  in  which 
prophecy  is  deservedly  held,  and  if  we  understand 
the  application  of  our  own  views,  they  have  no 
such  tendency.  He  who  has  increased  his  powers 
by  cultivating  and  purifying  the  talents  allotted  to 
him,  we  deem  as  worthy  as  if  a  new  talent  had 
been  suddenly  conferred  upon  him.  He  whose 
spiritual  light  has  been  permanently  increased,  we 
believe  to  be  as  much  favored  by  heaven,  as  if  he 
were  only  occasionally  made  the  vehicle  of  its  re- 
velations to  mankind. 

Prophecy  immediately  revealed  from  God,  has 
always  been,  as  indeed  it  must  needs  be,  accompa- 


# 


136  PROPHECY. 

nied  by  such  extraordinary  manifestations,  as  not 
only  to  leave  no  doubt  to  its  immediate  recipient, 
but  all  who  believe  his  account  of  it,  must  also  be- 
lieve the  prediction  to  come  from  an  infallible 
source.  A  simple  narration  of  them  is  sufficient 
to  produce  an  undoubting  faith. 

But  those  which  are  mere  discernings  of  an  in- 
spired spirit,  are  unsupported  by  such  supernatu- 
ral occurrences,  and  their  credibility  must  rest 
upon  other  circumstances.  We  can  judge  of  them 
only  by  what  they  themselves  present.  They  must 
bear  the  stamp  of  their  high  character  and  origin. 
Their  own  brightness  must  convince  us  that  they 
come  from  the  fountain  of  light.  Such  has  been 
the  case  with  those  which  have  been  accredited. 
They  have  contained  their  own  intrinsic  evidence. 
They  have  borne  the  impress  which  attested  that 
they  were  the  emanations  of  a  gifted  spirit.  They 
have  been  stamped  with  the  purest  ideality,  and 
clothed  in  the  loftiest  strains  of  poetry.  It  is  the 
universal  adaptation  of  this  language  to  every  de- 
gree of  intelligence,  which  has  made  for  them  an 
avenue  to  every  mind,  and  inspired  with  equal 
faith  the  weak  and  the  wise,  the  ignorant  and  the 
learned. 

The  exceptions  to  its  influence  have  generally 
been  such  as  disciplined  the  reasoning  faculty  in  the 
use  of  terms,  to  the  exclusion  of  ideality,  or  such 
as  cultivated  this  latter  faculty,  but  applied  it  only 
to  the    purpose  of  producing  illusion,   and  hence 


PROPHECr.  137 

had  no  good  reason  to  rely  upon  its  manifestations 
in  others.  They  felt  the  movements  of  its  power 
within  them,  but  blended  with  the  gross  and  sen- 
sual, had  no  adequate  conceptions  of  the  greatness 
of  its  purified  nature. 

It  is  often  asserted  that  the  age  of  prophecy  has 
passed.  With  regard  to  that  which  is  the  immedi- 
ate and  miraculous  manifestation  of  Deity,  it  be- 
comes not  us  to  speak;  but  concerning  that  which 
we  have  described  as  the  result  of  processes  of  ide- 
ality, we  may  venture  some  remarks. 

The  effect  which  the  sudden  advancement  of  the 
physical  sciences  has  had  in  changing  our  modes  of 
thought  and  expression,  has  wrought  an  important 
change  in  this  particular  province  of  mind.  Instead 
of  stating  the  result  of  a  process  of  ideality  in  its 
appropriate  language,  in  which  it  would  appear 
more  oracular,  these  results  are  minutely  traced, 
and  the  train  of  connexion  carefully  preserved 
through  the  medium  of  terms,  and  by  this  infusion 
of  the  prosaic,  what  in  its  original,  poetic  form 
would  have  appeared  as  prophecy,  is  reduced  to 
the  standard  of  common  sense.  The  power  of 
reaching  the  future  through  the  medium  of  primi- 
tive perceptions  is  the  highest  effort  of  mind,  and 
requires  the  most  concentrated  application  of  its 
undivided  energies.  Whatever  then  excites  it  to 
activity,  and  increases  its  power  of  attention,  is  fa- 
vorable to  this  development.  Intense  interest  en- 
abled the  empress  Josephine  to  foresee  the  results 

L 


133  FINITE   PRESENCE. 

of  a  certain  measure  of  Napoleon's,  and  had  she 
stated  those  resuks  in  the  less  precise  language  of 
ideality,  and  without  exhibiting  the  connecting  train 
of  reasoning,  they  might  have  passed  for  prophetic 
revelations.  It  is  not  then  surprising  that  before 
the  general  introduction  of  the  philosophic  method, 
and  especially  in  the  times  of  high  religious  excite- 
ment which  preceded  it,  that  enthusiastic  devotees 
should  have  often  penetrated  the  future  through  the 
medium  of  ideals,  to  which  their  glowing  imagina- 
tions imparted  such  vividness,  that  if  not  in  reality, 
they  might  easily  be  mistaken  for  the  inspirations 
of  prophecy,  and  they  have  honestly  believed  them- 
selves endowed  with  more  than  human  foresight. 
What  then  would  have  appeared  in  the  form  of 
false  prophecy,  is  now  first  converted  into  false 
philosophy  or  rejected  in  the  attempt  to  embody 
it  in  concrete  science. 

We  need  not  urge  that  this  power  by  which  we 
revive  the  past,  brighten  the  present,  and  antici- 
pate the  future,  is  the  highest  endowment  of  hu- 
manity. It  is  also  that  attribute  of  the  finite  spirit, 
which  most  nearly  corresponds  to  that  of  omnipres- 
ence in  the  infinite.  By  its  exercise,  every  place 
and  every  object  of  its  knowledge  is  made  present 
10  the  mind,  and  if  it  be  not  equally  proper  to  say 
that  mind  is  present  to  them,  is  an  equivalent,  which 
in  effect  makes  it  not  omnipresent,  because,  and 
only  because,  it  is  not  omniscient  and  omnipotent. 


IDEALITF  AND  ABSTRACTION.       lo9 

For,  if  we  knew  all  things,  we  could  make  them 
all  present  to  us  in  the  form  of  ideals,  and  if  ther(> 
were  no  limit  to  this  power,  we  could  embrace 
them  all  at  once,  and  this  would  be  equivalent  to 
being  every  where  present  at  the  same  time;  or,  if 
we  may  so  express  it,  mind,  as  manifested  in  man, 
has  a  finite  presence,  which  has  the  ?ame  relation  to 
omnipresence,  which  its  finite  knowledge  and  power 
have  to  the  other  two  great  attributes  of  the  uni^ 
versal  intelligence. 


The  revealings  of  ideality  require  a  constant  inir 
provement  of  the  language  in  which  they  are  ex- 
pressed, and  this  in  turn  demands  a  corresponding 
progression,  in  the  forms  of  abstraction,  and  in- 
duces a  mode  of  mind  which  forms  the  first  stage 
of  its  advancement  from  the  finite  to  the  infinite, 
and  admits  of  such  varied  proportions  of  the  gross 
and  etherial,  that  it  can  descend  to  the  most  selfish 
and  narrow  concerns,  or  closely  following  where? 
ideality  leads,  rise  in  lofty  and  refined  investigation 
to  the  most  ennobling  conceptions.  This  gives  it 
a  peculiar  adaptation  to  our  present  mixed  nature;, 
preserving  the  physical,  and  improving  the  moral. 
It  is  the  tempered  light  suited  to  our  feeble  vision. 
It  has  not  the  brilliancy  of  poetic  fancy,  but  it  pos-r 


140  IDEALITY    AND    ABSTRACTION. 

sesses  the  enduring  charms  of  substantial  truth. -7- 
The  language  of  abstraction  is  seldom  found  wholly 
unalloyed.  It  generally  contains  an  infusion  of  ide- 
ahty  and  by  this  combination  acquires  a  pliancy 
which  makes  it  more  universally  applicable  to  the 
subjects  of  thought.  Cheered  by  this  enlivening 
influence,  and  keeping  on  the  firm  ground  of  dem- 
onstration, the  man  of  abstraction  pursues  the  even 
tenor  of  his  way  amid  all  the  trials  and  temptations 
which  beset  his  path;  or  rising  in  lofty  speculation 
above  the  little  world  of  human  care  and  perplex- 
ity, draws  consolation  or  happiness  from  sources 
purely  his  own,  and  of  which  no  vicissitudes  of 
fortune  can  deprive  him.  He  returns  fortified  by 
the  results  of  mature  investigation,  and  invested 
with  a  panoply  of  principles  which  prepares  him 
for  all  the  chances  and  changes  of  life.  It  imparts 
firmness  to  his  virtue,  and  decision  and  energy  to 
his  action.  It  gives  him  a  tone  of  conscious  ele- 
vation which  raises  him  above  the  ordinary  vexa- 
tions of  life,  and  enables  him  to  look  on  its  joys  and 
its  sorrows  with  steadiness  and  serenity.  He  has 
measured  the  evils  to  which  he  is  exposed,  and 
knows  his  ability  to  endure  them. 

Nor  are  the  effects  of  this  power  when  exerted 
for  the  general  welfare  less  happy.  To  superficial 
observers,  the  man  of  abstraction  may  for  a  time 
appear  a  soulless,  uninteresting  object.  They 
will  wonder  how  he  can  find  amusement  in  abstruse 
and  perplexing  investigation.     They  cannot  per= 


^ 


IDEALITY  AND    ABSTRACTION.  141 

ceive  in  the  calm  solitude  of  his  bosom,  the  glow- 
ing ardor  which  sheds  its  mild  but  steady  light  on 
the  engrossing  objects  of  his  unremitted  toil.  They 
cannot  feel  the  fervor  with  which  the  simple  charms 
of  truth  have  inspired  him.  They  suspect  not  that 
one  apparently  so  cold  and  unyielding,  is  secretly 
actuated  by  the  warm  and  generous  feelings  of  uni- 
versal philanthroi^y,  and  is  unostentatiously  bestow- 
ing the  wealth  of  his  time  and  talents  for  the  per- 
manent benefit  of  mankind.  His  mind  appears  to 
them  a  gloomy  labratory  enveloped  in  smoke  and 
mist.  They  will  not  be  at  the  pains  to  examine 
his  chymic  processes,  and  are  astonished  when  they 
result  in  such  gleams  of  thought  as  shed  an  efful- 
gence around  him,  and  exhibit  the  bright  truths 
which  he  has  transmuted  from  error,  or  the  pure 
and  original  excellence  which  he  has  freed  from  the 
dross  which  rendered  it  obscure.  He  has  no  ser- 
vile regard  for  unfounded  opinions;  but  inspired 
with  a  fearless  love  of  truth,  pursues  it  regardless 
of  consequences,  and  never  despairs  of  vanquish- 
ing error,  whether  it  seeks  to  elude  him  in  the 
subtle  and  imposing  forms  of  mystery  and  super- 
stition, or  openly  resists  him  with  the  arms  of  pre- 
judice and  the  armor  of  ignorance.  Throughout, 
language  has  been  the  means  of  his  advancement. 
It  led  him  forward  in  the  path  of  demonstration. — 
It  directed  and  gave  certainty  to  the  processes  by 
which  he  discriminated   truth,   and  furnished  the 


142  IDEALITY  AND    ABSTRACTION. 

weapons  with  which  he  has  successfully  combatted 
its  opposers. 

The  philosopher  has  thus  attained  a  high  eleva- 
tion, but  the  poet  seeks  a  yet  higher  sphere.  He 
sets  at  nought  the  plodding  calculations  of  a  cir- 
cumscribed utility,  and,  disgusted  with  the  grovel- 
ling pursuits  which  he  observes  engross  the  atten- 
tion of  man,  wings  his  flight  high  in  the  airy  fields 
of  speculation,  and  lavishes  the  exuberance  of  his 
fancy  on  visionary  splendors  and  the  enticing  charms 
of  sentiment.  His  spirit-like  perceptions  no  longer 
assume  the  garb  of  language,  and  seraph-winged 
thoughts  lead  him  far  into  that  higher  sphere, 

"  Where  each  conceptinn  is  a  heav'nly  guest," 

and  far  beyond  the  little  circle  where  every  idea  is 
clothed  and  made  palpable  in  words,  as  a  soul  ani- 
mating its  embodying  clay. 

From  this  poetic  elevation  he  looks  down  upon 
this  little  world,  and  throws  over  it  and  its  con- 
cerns the  bright  hues  of  his  own  fervor,  till  in  the 
distance  it  appears  as  a  luminary  fitted  for  the  vault 
of  heaven.  Its  coarse  intrusions  no  longer  disturb 
him.  He  looks  above  and  around,  and  sees  every- 
where nature  unfolding  her  graces.  He  brings  all 
to  his  standard  of  ideal  excellence,  and  revels  in 
the  luxury  of  his  own  creations.  The  visions  of 
paradise  float  before  his  fancy,  and  the  inspirations 
of  his  musings  are  as  visitings  from  yet  higher 
spheres.     "But  how  often  in  some  momentary  pause 


IDEALITY    ANP  ABSTRACTION.  143 

when  the  imagination  has  become  enfeebled  by 
such  vast,  exciting,  and  long  continued  effort,  does 
the  thought  that  it  is  but  a  creation  of  fancy,  burst 
with  dread  reality  upon  him,  and  dissipate  the  illu- 
sion. The  veil  which  it  cast  over  the  realities  of 
life  is  withdrawn,  and  the  morbid  sensibility  of  a 
heart  accustomed  only  to  ideal  beauty  and  refine- 
ment, turns  with  loathing  from  its  comparative  de- 
formity. Such  is  the  regretted  efFect  of  this  ex- 
alted talent  when  acting  in  excess,  or  unconnected 
with  that  faculty  which  sustains  it  with  its  strength, 
and  receives  in  return  grace,  purity,  and  elevation. 
Yet  if  these  inspirations  have  been  embodied  in 
language,  they  are  not  without  their  utility.  They 
may  then  be  made  to  mingle  with  the  thoughts  of 
less  etherial  minds,  and  neutralize  the  degrading 
tendency  of  grosser  pursuits.  The  influence  of 
poetry  is  in  this  respect  of  great  importance,  and 
admits  of  almost  universal  application.  It  com- 
mands the  avenues  to  feeling,  and  there  is  hardly 
any  state  to  which  it  cannot  impart  pleasure  or  con- 
solation. It  resorts  not  to  the  tedious  manipula- 
tions of  abstraction,  but  with  a  godlike  power  com- 
mands things  to  come  forth  and  light  to  be.  Are 
the  spirits  gay  and  buoyant,  it  touches  some  chord 
of  rapture,  and  the  heart  yields  its  ready  response. 
Is  the  mind  oppressed  with  care,  has  the  morning 
ray  of  hope  ceased  to  illumine  it,  it  extends  its 
magic  wand,  and  like  the  electric  influence  on  the 
summer  evening's   cloud,  suffuses  it  with  the  light 


144  IDEALITY  AND    ABSTRACTION. 

which  more  sunny  hours  had  bestowed.  But  a 
mingling  with  terms  is  still  necessary  to  make  this 
influence;  tangible,  without  it  they  would  be  mere 
shadows  far  too  etherial  for  our  ordinary  percep- 
tions, and  would  be  lost  in  the  abyss  of  oblivion, 
from  which  even  the  magician  who  had  once  call- 
ed them  forth  might  not  be  able  again  to  summon 
them.    .  , 


The  observation  of  the  actual  events  and  occur- 
rences of  life  impels  us  to  action.  We  witness 
misery  and  are  moved  to  relieve  it.  We  see  the 
weak  oppressed  by  the  strong,  and  indignation 
rouses  us  to  their  rescue.  We  observe  virtue  vic- 
torious, and  join  in  the  triumph.  The  language  of 
ideality,  conveying  to  us  what  is  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  actual  observation  of  the  reality,  produc- 
es in  us  more  impulse,  more  emotion,  than  that  of 
abstraction,  in  which  we  expect  only  a  theoretical 
consequence,  and  that  when  reached,  expressed  in 
terms  presenting  no  particular  object  to  excite  our 
pity,  abhorrence  or  admiration.  Our  finite  emo- 
tions are  lost  in  the  infinity  of  a  general  proposi- 
tion, without  a  case  for  its  immediate  application. 
Hence  too  arises  the  distinction  between  the  ef- 


IDEALITY  AND    ABSTRACTION.  145 

fects  of  the  maxims  of  morality  and  devotional 
feeling,  a  distinction  wbich  though  often  denied  by- 
philosophers  who  have  reasoned,  has  always  been 
insisted  upon  by  the  multitude -who  feel  and  per- 
ceive. 

Although  the  poetic  and  prosaic  modes  of  mind 
are  seldom  found  united  in  their  highest  perfection 
in  the  same  individual,  yet  every  aspect  of  the 
subject  indicates,  that  it  is  by  a  combination  of 
them,  that  the  greatest  intellectual  power  is  produc- 
ed. It  is  then  the  union  of  activity  and  strength 
— the  beauty  of  poetry,  mingling  its  vivacity  and 
softness,  with  the  sterner  and  stronger  ati;t'ibntes  of 
reason.  So  necessary  does  this  combination  ap- 
pear to  give  efficiency  to  talent,  that  we  think  we 
should  hazard  little  in  disserting,  that  every  great 
enterprise  in  philosophy  had  been  accomplished  by 
a  powerful  imagination,  controlled  and  directed  by 
yet  more  powerful  reasoning  faculties;  and  that 
every  grand  achievement  in  poetry,  had  been  ef- 
fected by  strong  reasoning  powers,  sustaining  and 
impelling  a  yet  more  vigorous  imagination.  In 
great  minds,  it  is  not  the  absence  of  either  endow- 
ment, but  only  the  predominance  of  the  reasoning 
or  ideal  faculty,  which  forms  the  distinction,  and 
determines  the  character  to  the  one  or  the  other 
class. 

The  processes  by   which  they  accomplish  their 
designs,  and  the  pleasures  resulting  from  their  pur- 


146  IDEALITY  AND    ABSTRACTION. 

suits,  may  be  more  nearly  alike  than  is  generally 
supposed.  Let  us  bring  it  to  the  test  of  language. 
A  celebrated  divine,  thus  speaks  of  one  of  the 
most  ancient  and  most  sublime  of  poets.  "  The 
Psalmist  takes  a  loftier  flight.  He  leaves  the 
world  and  lifts  his  imagination  to  that  mighty  ex- 
panse which  spreads  above  and  around  it.  He 
wings  his  way  through  space,  and  wanders  in 
thought  over  its  immeasurable  regions.  Instead  of 
a  dark  and  unpeopled  solitude,  he  sees  it  crowded 
with  splendor,  and  filled  w"ith  the  energy  of  the  di- 
vine presence.  Creation  rises  in  its  immensity  be? 
fore  him,  and  the  world  with  all  which  it  inherits 
shrinks  into  iitticnessj  at  a  contemplation  so  vast 
and  so  overpowering.  He  wonders  that  he  is  not 
overlooked  amid  the  grandeur  and  the  variety  which 
are  on  every  side  of  him,  and  passing  up  from  the 
majesty  of  nature,  to  the  majesty  of  nature's  archi- 
tect, he  exclaims  what  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful 
of  him,  or  the  son  of  man  that  thou  shouldest  deign 
to  visit  him."  We  have  here  a  glowing  descrip- 
tion of  the  poet,  his  pursuits,  and  his  feelings,  but 
with  Newton  in  our  view,  might  we  not  apply  the 
same  to  the  philosopher  in  whom  the  powers  of 
abstraction  were  most  prominent.  To  preserve 
this  distinction  we  might  change  the  one  word  im- 
aginations for  investigations  and  say,  "  The  man 
of  abstraction  takes  a  still  loftier  flight,  he  leaves 
the  world  and  carries  his  investigations  to  that 
mighty  expanse,"  &c.  &c. 


IDEALITY  AND  ABSTRACTION.       147 

But  let  US  examine  a  little  more  closely  the 
mighty  expanse  which  he  opened  to  our  view,  and 
the  means  by  which  he  accomplished  it.  Taking 
this  earth  for  our  pedestal,  we  first  observe,  that  it 
is  but  one  of  a  number  of  planets  which,  with  their 
satelhtes,  revolve  round  the  sun  as  their  common 
centre;  and  with  the  comets  in  their  more  eccen- 
tric orbits,  compose  the  solar  system.  The  nice- 
ty of  their  instruments,  has  enabled  astronomers  to 
detect  a  difference  which  has  taken  place  in  the 
angular  distance  of  the  fixed  stars,  from  which  rea- 
son has  inferred  that  our  whole  system  is  revolving 
round  some  other  centre  which  analogy  suggests 
may  be  the  common  centre  of  many  such  systems, 
performing  their  cycles  in  times  so  inconceivably 
great,  and  at  such  immense  distances  that  a  thou- 
sand years  scarcely  makes  a  perceptible  difference 
in  their  relative  positions.  The  telescope  has  re- 
vealed to  us  a  number  of  nebula,  which  it  has 
been  imagined  are  clusters  of  stars  with  systems 
like  our  own.  It  has  also  shown  us  that  the  galaxy 
is  occasioned  by  the  greater  number  of  stars  in 
that  portion  of  the  heavens,  at  great  distances  from 
us,  and  hence  it  has  been  inferred,  that  all  these 
with  the  other  visible,  and  probably  many  invisible 
stars,  form  one  nebula,  in  which  we  occupy  a  po- 
sition nearer  to  one  edge  of  the  cluster,  and  look- 
ing through  the  centre,  see  more  stars  in  that  direc- 
tion, whose  light,  blended  and  softened  in  the  dis- 
Vance,  causes  the  milky  appearance  there  exhibited. 


148  IDEALITY   AND    ABSTRACTION. 

And  thus  on  this  fact  has  reason  raised  an  analogy  in 
support  of  the  conjecture.  Imagination,  as  if  de- 
spairing of  any  hrait,  next  suggests  that  the  num- 
ber of  these  systems  may  be  infinite,  an^  reason 
has  attempted  to  prove,  that  from  the  known  laws 
of  gravitation,  it  cannot  be  otherwise. 

Thus  supported  she  has  ventured  yet  a  farther 
flight,  and  not  only  conceived  each  of  these  stars 
a  sun,  with  systems  of  planets  revolving  round  it, 
and  thus  gemed  with  worlds  this  sublime  immen- 
sity, but  given  to  each  the  garniture  of  a  resplend- 
ent canopy,  animated  them  ail  with  a  teeming  pop- 
ulation, and  clothed  them  with  the  verdure  and  va- 
riety which  give  beauty  and  interest  to  our  own 
little  orb.  And  here  she  has  rested  until  these 
conjectures  shall  have  been  reduced  to  certainty, 
or  rejected  as  errors  or  groundless  hypotheses. 

We  learn  that  the  diameter  of  the  earth's  orbit  is 
nearly  two  hundred  millions  of  miles,  and  we  rack 
our  inventions  for  some  means  of  forming  an  ade- 
quate conception  of  this  immense  distance.  We 
next  find,  and  it  is  reduced  to  demonstration,  that 
this  distance  is  but  an  infinitesimal  of  the  nearest 
fixed  stars — that  whether  we  are  at  one  end  of  it 
or  the  other,  makes  not  the  least  perceptible  differ- 
ence in  their  relative  situation,  and  that  in  all  prob- 
ability there  is  a  continuity  of  these  stars,  extending 
through  a  number  of  like  distances  before  reaching 
the  outer  limits  of  our  own  cluster.  Our  feeble 
faculties  are  dismayed,  and  hardly  attempt  to  grasp 
the  reality  of  such  grand  and  imposing  calculations. 


IDEALITY    A^D    ABSTRACTION.  149 

Yet  what  is  all  this  immensity  to  the  distance  of 
the  nearest  nebula,  from  which  to  the  aided  eye  of 
the  observer,  the  congregated  splendor  of  all  this 
host  of  suns  would  appear  but  a  feeble  glimmering; 
and  in  the  circumference  of  whose  welkin  vault 
the  opposite  extremes,  embracing  these  millions 
upon  millions,  would  appear  but  a  span.  We  stand 
aghast  at  a  contemplation  so  magnificent  and  so 
overpowering,  and  even  the  infinite  tendencies  of 
our  nature  seem  to  have  found  ample  room  for  their 
dilation  in  the  consideration  of  this  merging  of  vast 
into  yet  vaster  systems  without  end. 

The  perfection  of  optical  instruments,  enabled 
astronomers  to  possess  themselves  of  the  facts,  on 
which  rest  the  demonstrations  of  the  truths  and 
the  probability  of  the  conjectures  which  have  raised 
their  science  to  the  highest  elevation,  and  we  know 
that  some  of  those  who  have  been  instrumental  in 
this  grand  achievement  of  philosopiiy,  by  long  habit 
and  continued  effort,  had  learned  to  withdraw  them- 
selves from  the  ordinary  distractions  and  engross- 
ments of  life,  and  had  consequently  acquired  a  pow- 
er of  concentrating  their  energies  upon  their  favor- 
ite pursuit.  They  had  then  observation  aided  by 
the  instruments  of  art,  reason  concentrated  by  ab- 
straction from  the  usual  cares  of  existence,  wrought 
to  its  utmost  effort  by  the  inspiring  magnitude  of 
its  pursuits,  and  bearing  forward  and  sustaining  a 
vigorous  imagination  excited  to  enthusiasm  by  the 
grandeur  and  sublimity  of  its  objects.     In  a  word, 

M 


150  IDEALITY    AND  ABSTRACTION. 

that  tills  most  stupendous  conception  of  the  mate- 
torial  universe,   has  been  brought  within  the  grasp 
of  humanity,  by  a  partial  approach  to   that  combi- 
nation of  the   intellectual  powers   which  we  have 
supposed  to  become   more  perfect  hereafter,  and 
by  a  partial  improvement  of  some  of  the  elements 
of  that  combination  by  the  action  of  the  same  causes 
which  we  have  endeavored  to  show  must  there  be 
more  universal.     And  while  we  derive  from  this 
greatest,  grandest  achievment  of  mind,  some  idea 
of  the  effect  of  improving  and  uniting  the  faculties 
of  observation,  reason  and  imagination,  we  may  also 
observe  in  the  beautiful  harmony  with  which  these 
systems  into  systems  run,   as  they   diverge  in  the 
illimitable  regions  of  space,  a  something  which  acts 
on  our  feelings  like  the  ineffible  power  of  melody, 
producing  an  emotion,  may  we  not  say  an  infinite 
yet  tangible  emotion  of  music,   elevating  us  to  the 
confines  of  devotion.     And  the  whole  development 
l)ears  witness  that  this  feeling  had    a  great  though 
perhaps  an  unperceived  influence  in  directing  those 
great  strides   of  the   imagination  which  preceded 
every  great  effort  and  advancement  of  reason. 

It  is  in  these  sublime  discoveries  that  mind  has 
put  forth  all  its  power  and  exerted  all  its  energies. 
It  here  appears  in  all  its  grandeur,  and  supported 
by  all  its  dependencies.  It  is  its  last  grand  suc- 
cessful effort.  We  here  see  the  utmost  limit  to 
which  it  has  attained,  and  in  this  farthest  stage  of 
its  advancement,  we  find  it  progressing  towards 


FUTURE  PROSPECTS.  151 

perfection  in  the  path  which  our  speculation  has 
ah'eady  traced,  and  which  we  have  endeavored  to 
extend  in  shadowy  outhne  in  the  dim  futurity. 

In  this  process,  ideahty  has  performed  its  part, 
but  the  results  have  been  reduced  to  the  more  defi- 
nite form  of  abstraction.     The  great  magnitude  of 
these  results,  and  the  universal  interest  felt  in  them, 
has  produced    a   corresponding  effect  on  the  age. 
Abstraction  has  acquired  a  supremacy,  and  is  made 
the  test  of  rationality  on   every  subject.     Ideality 
is  not  permitted  to  range  far  beyond  its  precincts. 
The  noble  sallies  of  the  soul  are  repressed.     Mind 
limited  to  a  particular  mode  of  action,  exerts  itself 
on  subjects   to  which  that  mode  is  best  adapted. 
Physical  science  is  the  order  of  the  day.     It  has 
advanced,    and  is    still   advancing  with  astonishing 
rapidity.      The  great  outlines  which  Newton  and 
his    cotemporaries  struck   out,  is  nearly  filled  up. 
The  impulse  which  they  gave  to  intellectual  exer- 
tion is  almost   spent.     Tiie  world   is  nearly  ready  ^ 
for  some  other  grand  enterprise,  and  who  that  has 
observed  the  mutual  light  which  the  sciences  shed 
upon  each  other,  and  their  tendency  to  preserve  an 
equillibrium,  does  not  see  in  this  accumulation  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  matter,  an  indication  of 
a  corresponding  improvement  in  our  knowledge  of 
the  laws  of  mind.     Who  that  has  observed  the  ef- 
fect, which  increasing  our  physical  comforts  has 
in  producing  a  desire  for  the  more  refined  pleas- 


152  FUTURE   PROSPECTS. 

ures  of  intellect,  does  not  in  the  present  condition 
of  the  civilized  world,  already  see  the  workings  of 
an  impulse  which  is  to  advance  us  in  this  higher 
pursuit.  The  laws  of  mind  are  confessedly  not 
understood.  Something  has  perhaps  been  done 
in  training  the  reasoning  faculty,  but  in  regard  to 
that  other  mode  of  mind  to  which  we  have  applied 
the  term  ideality,  we  apprehend  that  very  little  has 
been  accomplished.  It  appears  to  have  been 
thought  beyond  the  reach  of  any  regulated  disci- 
pline. Its  processes  have  been  regarded  either  as 
lawless  workings  of  the  spirit,  or  as  subject  only 
to  the  control  of  some  higher  intelligence.  Thus 
unrestrained,  its  expansive  nature  has  often  dissi- 
pated itself  in  wild  extravagances,  or  errors,  requir- 
ing the  aid  of  abstraction  to  correct.  For  want  of 
proper  restraints,  it  has  sometimes  been  productive 
of  evil,  but  we  confidently  look  forward  to  a  time 
when  its  laws  and  the  means  of  directing  its  pow- 
er will  be  better  understood.  When  we  shall  know 
how  to  limit  its  expansibility  within  our  means  of 
controlling  it,  and  as  we  become  more  and  more 
acquainted  with  its  nature,  be  able  to  use  it  in  its 
most  elastic  form,  and  make  it  subservient  to  the 
most  exalted  purposes  which  are  within  the  prov- 
ince of  humanity.  If  we  are  not  deceived,  the 
time  is  not  distant,  when  some  strong  hand  will 
break  down  the  barriers  which  now  obstruct  our 
progress  in  intellectual  science,  or  some  aspiring 
an<l   gifted  spirit    rend  the  veil  which  obscures  it. 


FUTURE    PROSPECTS.  153 

and  introduce  us  into  new  regions  of  light,  illumi- 
nating mind,  and  displaying  the  true  greatness  of 
our  nature. 


ERRATA. 

On  page  9   10  line,  from  bottom,  for  charms  read  charm 

On  page  23,  middle,  for  cause  read  case. 

On  page  42,  7  lines  from  bottom,  for  thence  read  there 

On  page  49,  bottom  line,  for  forms  read  pour 

On  page  50,  bottom  line,  for  acquire  read  acginres 

On  page  74,  4  lines  from  bottom,  for  as  read  us. 

On  page  90,  last  line,  for  intuition  read  intuitive. 

«n  page  94    10  lines  from  top,  for  each  read  .„./. 

Un  page  129,  3  hnes  from  bottom,  for  M  into  read  /,rf  „.  iL. 


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